


Moderation

by stanakin96



Series: Moderation - Obikin Harry Potter AU [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Choking, Drama, Eventual Smut, Gay Poe Dameron, Happy Ending, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Implied Kylo Ren/Rey, Implied Qui Gon/Obi Wan, M/M, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Pining, Professor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Triwizard Tournament, anakin is 18, finnpoe mentioned, plot heavy, slow burn anakin/obi-wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 68,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24608599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanakin96/pseuds/stanakin96
Summary: Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are inseparable at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, until Obi-Wan graduates and leaves Anakin alone. After years of waiting, Anakin is a seventh year, and realizes that his old childhood crush is now his Professor.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Moderation - Obikin Harry Potter AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779010
Comments: 162
Kudos: 232





	1. More of You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is chapter one of what I hope to be a pretty long series, hope you all like it :) Follow me on tumblr!: stanakin96.tumblr.com (also I got the idea for the title from the song Moderation by Florence and the Machine, give it a listen for the full effect!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter name song: More of You - Chris Stapleton
> 
> (listen for full effect :))

He didn’t notice at first, the moment Anakin grew taller than him.

After all, Obi-wan was a young third year when he’d met Anakin; a quiet but excited first year. For whatever reason, he felt undeniably bonded to Anakin the moment he saw him- knowing that he would protect him from anything he possibly could. Anakin was so little and so delighted to be at Hogwarts, following Obi-Wan wherever he went, begging Obi-Wan to sneak him into Hogsmead, talking about how his classmates weren’t advanced enough for him.

Obi-wan was alone when it happened, pouring over books in the library, researching to his own delight. Suddenly, there was a warm breath at the nape of his neck and two strong hands at his back. Careful to not draw his wand in attack, he swiftly turned around to see his young friend grinning and quietly chucking. It was his sixth year and Anakin’s third, he was fourteen.

“Scared you, didn't I?” 

Anakin shook his head and quickly left the room, averting the prefect’s eyes, he wasn’t one to indulge in libraries much. Obi-Wan huffed and combed his hand through his hair, brushing the spot where Anakin had been. Listening to his footsteps echo down the library hall, he couldn’t help but wonder to himself- _when had he grown so tall?_

-

“Are you sure I can’t just go with you?”

“Anakin, you know you can’t.”

Anakin’s face radiated orange and red in the light of the Ravenclaw common room fireplace. It was not the first, but one of hundreds of nights he’d snuck out of the Slytherin dorms to stay up past curfew with Obi-Wan. He scrunched his nose and mouth in a pout, something he did when Obi-Wan said his name like that. _Anakin_ , like a child. He had just turned fifteen and was already older, smarter, and ambitious than the students in his class.

“It’s not like I’m learning anything anymore anyway, you know how the professors ignore me.” He said, laying his head on the carpet floor, hair sticking out in every direction.

“I know how you feel about your professors.” 

Obi-Wan laid his head down next to Anakin and placed his hands on his stomach, ignoring how good it felt to be laying down. He hoped not, but knew this would likely be the last meeting between him and his friend at Hogwarts. Obi-Wan only ever stayed out past curfew to council Anakin, there was no hurt in losing one more night of sleep. Especially when he had not yet acknowledged to himself just how much he’d miss the brooding fourth year. The two had been virtually inseparable in their time at Hogwarts, where Obi-Wan went, Anakin followed.

“Who will do this with me when you’re gone?” Anakin asked, making his voice sound lower in an attempt to mask his emotions. Obi-Wan noticed immediately, he was still so young.

“Well there’s always Padme-“ he said, interrupted by Anakin loudly groaning. He never cared about blowing their cover or getting in trouble.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like Padme a lot.” 

Anakin brought his wand up to his nose, Obi-Wan noticed over the years he did this when deep in thought. “It’s just not the same.”

A quick silence filled the room at the mention of Anakin’s girlfriend, a Ravenclaw Obi-Wan had heard was from a powerful wizarding family. She was smart, dark haired and very pretty. Anakin had spent the majority of Obi-Wan’s last year at Hogwarts chasing after her attention, time he was now abundantly aware of. Time he had wished he’d spent with his best friend.

“Become a professor and come back. You know they’ll hire anyone.” 

Obi-Wan laughed tiredly to himself at this comment, his friend was right. Hogwarts had been through a number of professors, qualified and unqualified in the time he’d been there. Obi-Wan was no more than the ideal student, top of his class, Ravenclaw Prefect. He’d be receiving his N.E.W.T scores any day now, no doubt all of them exceeding expectations. Hogwarts would welcome him back at the drop of the hat. 

For the last four years, Obi-Wan had not known a life at Hogwarts that existed without Anakin. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other friends, just nothing quite the magnitude of this. He did his best to avoid thoughts that would elicit extreme emotion, and leaving Anakin was certainly one of them. The pair remained still, comfortable in the silent presence of one another. They’d always been close, but could not help but feel a shift in the depth of their bond now that the next time they’d meet was unknown. 

“I’ll do what I can, _Anakin_.”

-

The last time Anakin saw Obi-Wan was the last day of courses at Hogwarts, only a couple days following their meeting in the Ravenclaw common room. 

He was helping Padme load her trunks for the journey back home amongst the hundreds of other students. He was standing by her side in the Great Hall when he heard the familiar voice of Obi-Wan. Friendly and serious, and to the untrained ear, rarely noticed. 

Anakin looked to his right to see Obi-Wan chatting with some professors, using his hands to explain just whatever it is he was thinking. He was now changed out of his Hogwarts robes into tight-fitting trousers and a loose sweater, it shocked Anakin to see him so casual. Had it not been for his duties to help Padme with her possessions he would have interrupted the now graduated seventh year to ask him once more if he’d ever consider letting him leave Hogwarts with him. The professors laughed at whatever it was Obi-Wan said to them, like one of their equals, he had not noticed Anakin standing at the other side of the table. Obi-Wan was always so intentional in conversation, there was no way he’d notice him now.

“Are you ready darling?” Padme asked, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump in place at the mere shock of interruption. He took his eyes off of Obi-Wan for just a moment to gather their possessions. Anakin quickly looked back as though his friend would vanish- to find him doing merely the same attentive actions as before- no doubt impressing the professors as he always did. He donned a strict scowl on his face as to not convey the loss he was feeling. Obi-Wan was grown up now, a full-fledged Wizard off to the Auror Academy, young and handsome. As Anakin feared, _leaving him forever_.

“I’m ready now, sorry.” Anakin averted his gaze from his friend back to Padme, careful not to turn his head back to Obi-Wan. 

This was the moment he remembered, clear as though it happened minutes ago, when he heard the same voice on the first day of his Seventh year at Hogwarts. He pulled tufts of his now very long hair away from his scalp, it was frustrating but not uncommon for him to hear voices. In the years following Obi-Wan's graduation, Anakin threw himself into his magic, which occasionally led to him hearing and seeing things that were not actually there.

“Are you alright?” Padme asked, concerned, as she was aware of Anakin’s tendency to bend towards the imaginary.

“Yes, I’m fine.” He brushed her bony hand away from his wrist, noticing how small it looked in his grasp. It was not the first time he’d heard Obi-Wan’s voice, but for whatever reason, everything about this moment felt so real. He’d had the strength to push away the voice of his old friend before, but the clearness of it brought up a desperateness inside of him he did not want to feel.

“ _Anakin_ , I’ve been looking for you.” He jumped in his seat at the soft, undeniable grip of a hand at his Slytherin vest, which was now far, far too small for him.

“Obi-Wan!” Exclaimed an excited Padme, who leapt from her seat to throw her arms around Hogwarts’ newest professor.

 _I thought I’d never see you again_ , Anakin thought as he rose to his feet, doing his best to not let his frown cover his mouth. The feeling of facing his once closest friend again made his chest hurt, _you left me here_. 

“I have to go,” Anakin gathered his books “I’ll see you later I’m sure.” Obi-Wan took in a sharp breath, unable to hide the mere shock at the size and sight of Anakin. The fourth year he’d last seen was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t get another word out before Anakin was too far down the hallway, his large gait causing him to move quicker than most of the adults in the building. 

“I’m sure he’ll come around.” Piped Padme, knowing that this was customary of Anakin, even though she knew very well that none of this was customary. It had been years since Anakin heard anything from who he considered his closest friend. Obi-Wan had ignored every letter Anakin sent, and the emotion of all of it beat against Anakin's chest like a drum he couldn't stop hearing. He gripped the edges of his textbooks tightly in his fingers, almost ripping them spine from spine.

 _You left me_ , he couldn’t stop thinking it, _you left me_.


	2. More Than Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Obi-Wan's first class as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the students (including Anakin), cannot help but notice how attractive and cool the new teacher is. It infuriates Anakin.
> 
> Chapter name song: More Than Anything - Adam Melchor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like :) (listen to the song for the full effect!)
> 
> Tumblr: stanakin96.tumblr.com

Storming off down the corridor, his heart pumping in his chest, Anakin grew abundantly aware of the wand in his robe pocket. Fifteen and a half inches long, unsure of the wood, he was only sure of its weight and apparent age. The wand did not _choose_ him as so many of his classmates had gotten the privilege of, but rather, found by him. Anakin had lived in many houses in his life, they’d begun to blur together, except for the one.

“Now why’d you storm off like that?” Said Padme, smacking Anakin lightly on the shoulder, her voice dark and quiet.

Anakin and his mother were staying in a hostel somewhere warm, not England, he was little. One night Anakin felt himself inexplicably drawn to a dusty bookshelf, the one that hid what he would take as his wand. He picked it up, dropping the heavy thing from his little fingers, but when it landed on the ground, tiny, red sparks came out. His mother jerked out of bed and made striking eye contact with him as he bent down to pick it up. It would be their last night in the hostel.

He turned around to face the disapproving Ravenclaw, thinking of all the times he’d done the same with Obi-Wan. He wouldn’t admit to himself just how similar the two were.

“It doesn’t matter, Padme.” He placed his big, muscular hands on her little arms, which she promptly shimmied off.

“It obviously does, Ani.” He flinched at the sound of her calling him that, it made him feel so young.

He thought about the wand in his pocket again and all the things he wanted to do with it. He imagined the circle of fire he could draw around himself to keep people from stepping too close, or perhaps finding a way to render himself invisible.

Anakin looked up, past the small shoulders of Padme to see Obi-Wan for the first time in what felt like forever. What _was_ forever.

The new professor looked different to him than the last time he saw him. He’d grown out his light hair for something more serious, nothing at all like when he was seventeen. Small grey rings surrounded his eyes, Anakin could see them from across the corridor. It was almost painful to look at him. He turned back onto his feet and quickly looked away before Obi-Wan could do or say anything to him.

Before he knew it, his old friend was completely out of sight and he was on his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, the only class he ever had remotely any interest in at Hogwarts. He slumped into a desk situated in the back, promptly removing his robes that were too tight for him as students filed through the room.

“You alright Anakin?” Asked Rey, dealing a small, caring brush of her fingers to Anakin’s back. _Why was everyone always touching him?_

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t seem that way.” Poe replied, twirling his wand in his right hand, unopened chocolate frog box in the other.

“I can’t believe you still eat those,” said Anakin, a small smile creeping up his face upon the interaction with his Gryffindor classmates. For whatever reason, he could not for the life of him get along with the seventh year Slytherins.

“You know you want one, Skywalker.” Poe replied, a small chuckle underneath his breath.

Anakin rolled his eyes but couldn’t mask the smile that continued to creep up his face. He reached out his hand to Poe, who without command, placed the small box in his palm. Without looking at him, Anakin felt a sharp jerk in energy that took over his body like a gust of wind.

“Shit, is that Obi-Wan?” Poe loudly interjected. 

Anakin felt the brush of heavy robes slip past his shoulder as his old friend, now professor, walked by him to the front of the classroom.

“Good afternoon, students.” Announced Obi-Wan, commanding the immediate silence and attention of everybody in the room. He was surely the youngest professor Hogwarts had ever had; Anakin could hear the tight breaths of the girls in the room when he stepped to the front of the podium.

“Some of you might know me, some of you might not.”

 _Something like that_ , Anakin thought.

“However, I’m quite excited to be here and share my experience as an Auror.” He couldn’t help but be cool, but be friendly and put people at ease without even trying. It was one of the many things Anakin felt he was the opposite of in their friendship. It was always impossible to stay mad at him for very long, which was saying a lot, especially for Anakin.

“You may call me whatever you like, though Obi-Wan or teacher is fine. I’m not fond of the term Master or Professor.”

Obi-Wan neglected the chair behind him and casually sat on the desk instead, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up shirt. Once again, Anakin felt the collective shift of energy in the classroom, not even he could deny it as he peeled his eyes up from the floor to meet the face of Obi-Wan. He was _looking_ at him, _smiling at him_.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

-

Anakin struggles to pay attention in class. In between Obi-Wan making eye contact with him, or at least by the mere thought he was, he felt as though he was on trial. Poe’s indulgent comments did not help, either, every single time the young professor turned around.

“Damn,” he’d whisper “I mean, _damn_ , what happened?”

Anakin knew exactly what he was referring to. After all, something about Obi-Wan in such a position of power coupled with the way he held himself as an Auror, a _man_ , was attractive. Something about him was inherently taller. He looked stronger and older with hair grown out, cooler. Anakin counted down the seconds to class ending. Being in the same room as his old friend for so long was suffocating, and _everyone knew_.

Poe, Rey, and the other seventh years, knew how close the pair had been. Anakin could practically feel their eyes burning into the both of them. He was never the same after Obi-Wan left. After waiting for him, sending him owl after owl who never returned with letters, not even a “Happy Christmas”, something about him changed. Anakin locked himself away from the world, now concealing every emotion and attachment.

 _Yes_ , everyone knew the way Anakin turned at the mention of Ob-Wan’s name. Like it was offensive, like it would hurt him.

The class came to an end and Anakin, with unflinching aggression, snatched his books and robe from his desk and rushed out of the room. He was unwilling to stay and chat with his _friends_ , he didn’t want their sympathy. He wanted to get away from Obi-Wan.

He was halfway down the corridor having never looked back when he heard him.

“Anakin, please.” Quiet, breathy, it stopped Anakin in his tracks. He talked a big talk of avoiding and disliking and hating Obi-Wan, but found he was not as strong in practice. He clenched his free hand in a tight fist as he turned around to face his old friend, practically flinching backwards when their eyes met.

 _I haven’t seen you in so long_ , Anakin thought.

“Professor?”

“Anakin, I was hoping we could talk-“

“I have to get to class.” Anakin interrupts him, and the look Obi-Wan shoots him pinches at his heart, even now, he didn’t want to hurt him. “But I can meet you later.” 

He said, doing his best to undo the damage he’d done. It’s not that he ever wanted to intentionally hurt Obi-Wan, but still couldn’t help but react strongly, and in pain. Obi-Wan had hurt him deeply, and it would be ages before he could interact with him in any sort of normal way. He couldn’t take back all the lost letters, all the times he’d asked him to visit Hogwarts, to which his old friend never replied. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't deny how badly he wanted to see Obi-Wan, to be in his company like the old days. _More than anything_.

“Good then, just come to my office when you can. Do you need directions?”

Anakin chuckled, knowing that there was a part of him that was bonded to Obi-Wan like a compass. No matter the situation, he’d always be able to find him.

“I’ll be fine, Master Kenobi.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at Anakin, shooting him a small, toothy smile that made Anakin’s stomach hurt. It took all the power in Anakin’s body to remain upset at him in that moment, he felt he was losing his strength at the sight of his friend, older, smarter, _shit_ , hotter. If that was possible. Anakin stood there for a moment, locked in the place he’d been looking at Obi-Wan in, minutes after he’d left. He felt a sharp punch at his right shoulder.

“You see what I mean then?” Poe asked, walking backwards to face Anakin as he walked away, referring to Obi-Wan. Anakin shrugged his shoulders, and followed his friend to their potions class. He knew what his friend was referring to, but for him, it was different. Obi-Wan had always been attractive to him, magnetic to him. The difference was now just that everyone else knew, as well.

“I won’t have one more word on the subject.” He said to Poe, doing his best to imitate their new professor’s intense and _gorgeous accent_. Poe let out a loud, American laugh.

“You don’t fool me, Skywalker.


	3. At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Finn motivate Anakin to go to his private meeting with Professor Kenobi. On his way there, Anakin runs into a peculiar character, but spends a night hashing it out with Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! Let me know how you like the chapter :) (credits to @Astrea for giving me the idea to give Obi-Wan glasses.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr!: stanakin96.tumblr.com

“I’m serious, if you don’t want to go, I will.” 

Said Poe, once again twirling his wand in his thick, dark fingers. Anakin let out a sigh of exasperation, looking intently at the fireplace crackling in the Gryffindor common room. Finn sat in the chair above him, legs draped off the side, his eyes facing the ceiling.

“I will too, actually.” He chimed in.

Anakin felt his stomach tug again, thinking about the whole situation. He’d been hearing about Obi-Wan all day, no matter where he went, he couldn’t escape him. It felt like all he heard were the whispered comments between seventh, sixth, and any-years about the appearance new professor. It made Anakin blind with hot rage whenever he heard anybody talk about Obi-Wan. One interaction in particular stuck in his mind like glue.

_Have you seen the new professor, Kenobi? God, he’s gorgeous._

He heard a pair of girls in the hallway. Like they knew a thing about him. Anakin felt his neck and hands grow hot with some kind of feeling when he thought about this. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what exactly he was experiencing, only that he knew how painful it was, and that he’d never felt anything like it before. It was what followed every sentence of every one of his interactions during the day. People would approach him to tell him what he knew abundantly well:

_Did you know Obi-Wan is back?_

Followed by something along the lines of:

_He got quite attractive, didn’t he?_

As though he didn’t know his former best friend was back at Hogwarts. It wasn’t like two had been inseparable for four straight years, or that Anakin was oblivious to how Obi-Wan looked. He usually stormed away during these interactions, biting his tongue to not say anything he would regret. Obi-Wan had always been attractive, intelligent, and charming. It pushed against every nerve in his body when he heard the shock in student's voices who were _just now_ realizing it.

“I want to see Obi-Wan, it’s just-“ Anakin started, and then stopped himself, when what felt like a fist punched him in the throat. He couldn’t finish his sentence; he could barely say his old friend’s name. A quick silence filled the room, making his pain all the more palpable and obvious to the two Gryffindors. Poe and Finn made eye contact from across the room, now much more aware of their friend’s pain. Finn slipped out of his seat down to the floor where Anakin was, doing his best not to scare off the emotionally stunted Slytherin.

“Just go once, at the very least to get it off your plate.” 

Finn was right, Anakin thought, Obi-Wan was nothing if not now a part of his life again. Now that the two shared the same building, and would be in contact every day, there was no way to avoid him forever. Anakin picked up his wand, continuing to put off the interaction, and without having to say _lumos_ , lit a small light at the tip. It seemed to echo the rhythm of his heart beating, which he now realize, was going quite fast. He placed the wand back in his pocket and stood up.

“My offer still stands you know.” Quipped Poe as Anakin put his robes back on, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face Poe somehow always managed out of him.

“Thank you for offering, but I think I can handle our new Professor alone.” Anakin replied, lungs growing weak at the thought of it.

“You _do know_ what they’re calling him right-“ Poe stopped in the middle of his sentence at the quick kick of Finn’s boot. Their friend didn’t need any more distractions, or reasons to be upset about the new Hogwarts professor. Nevertheless, Anakin barely seemed to notice. He slipped out of the room, robes billowing behind him, as he shot up a short wave to the two Gryffindors, Finn waited until he was out of sight.

“Now _what_ are they calling Obi-Wan?”

-

Night gleaned in through the gigantic Hogwarts windows as Anakin began his trek to the Professor's Wing. He’d been in enough trouble at Hogwarts to know the door to almost every single professor’s office, finding Obi-Wan would be no challenge. He walked slowly down the corridor, taking notice of every reflection the white of the moon touched. He loved how big it was tonight, it made him appreciate the glass trophy boxes and stained glass of the old castle, which was not a common feeling for him. He’d just begun to practice what he’d say to Obi-Wan when he saw Headmaster Palpatine approaching him.

“Skywalker,” he said, slowly, cocking his head to the side, “how’s the Head of Slytherin house?” 

Anakin flinched at this title, he hated it. He wasn’t manageable enough to ever be a Prefect, quidditch bored him, but despite however much he slept in his classes, did fairly well in them. So well, that the headmaster had taken notice of him. Anakin had spent many afternoons in Palpatine’s office, after all, he was the only professor that didn’t make him feel so childish.

“I’m doing fine, headmaster, I don’t know about the Head of Slytherin, though.”

Palpatine let out a weak laugh that sounded all-too like a cough of some kind as he approached closer to the seventh year. 

“Did you have a good summer? No interruption on your studies, I presume?” He asked, referring to the books he’d given to Anakin last term. 

“No interruptions,” he’d blown through the books within the first few weeks of Summer break. They weren’t regular textbooks; the authors wrote about things that Anakin had never heard professors talk about. Different types of magic, powerful wizards and secrets of the Wizarding World. Palpatine had told him to keep them, that a student of his excellence deserved to learn even when Hogwarts was closed. Anakin felt a jab of pain at his chest when he thought about his lonely summer.

“Good, I’m quite glad to hear it. Now, where are you off to tonight? Care for a cup of tea?”

“I’m actually off to see Obi-Wan, or, Professor Kenobi.” Anakin corrected himself in front of the Headmaster, who he knew surely had a hand in his hiring.

“Ah, I see, you know I believe Master Kenobi is busy at the moment, I just saw him leave his office.” The Headmaster said.

Anakin felt the pain in his chest grow from a jab to a full-on punch. He shouldn’t be shocked that Obi-Wan had better things to do than sit in his office and wait for him all night. However, having the knowledge of it certainly didn’t help. Right as he was about to accept the headmaster’s invitation, he heard a set of familiar footsteps coming down the corridor. 

“Anakin! So glad I found you. Headmaster.”

It was not strictly platonic to be able to recognize someone’s presence simply by the way they walked, but nothing about Anakin’s relationship with Obi-Wan was commonplace. He approached the pair quickly, his now long hair falling in his eyes, the sleeves of his button up still rolled up, tucked into tight black trousers. The only difference was a pair of thin, wiry grey glasses circling Obi-Wan’s face. Anakin took a sharp gulp of air in, he liked how they looked on him. He liked them a lot.

“I hate to intrude Headmaster but I’m afraid I have a meeting with mister Skywalker. Is that alright?” 

Obi-Wan was so damn polite. Palpatine, with a grin, threw his hands up a couple inches in the air, “by all means, professor. We’ll have to reschedule, Anakin.”

“Certainly, Headmaster.” Anakin replied, as Palpatine slowly began to walk away from the pair. Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow as a large grin began to cover his face in surprise.

“Reschedule with the Headmaster, I see. You’ve far excelled past secret meetings in Ravenclaw common room.” Obi-Wan said to him, excited energy practically bouncing off of him. He held a stack of papers in his right hand that tugged down on his thin shirt that Anakin did his best to not pay attention to. Him and Anakin, without any direction, began walking together down the hall. It required no effort on Anakin's part to blindly follow Obi-Wan, even after all this time. “Seems as though I have quite a lot to catch up on.”

Anakin nervously laughed, “yeah, something like that.” They took a sharp right, not far at all from the Professor’s chambers. Obi-Wan rushed a few steps ahead of Anakin to show him which door was his, but Anakin did not consider this. All he could think about was how _perfect_ and how _fitting_ it was to see Obi-Wan like this, papers in hand, dressed so formally, so respected. 

Not to mention the view of Obi-Wan he’d occasionally look down on from where he was walking.

“This is me.” Obi-Wan said, motioning to a large birch door with a golden knob, he held on tightly to the stack of papers in his hand as he reached for the wand in his pocket. Anakin wanted to take them from him to try and help, but with one flick of his wand, Obi-Wan had opened the door to his office. He didn’t need help.

“Pardon the mess Anakin, I’ve only been here just a few days.” He said to Anakin, completely unbothered by whatever “mess” he was talking about. His chambers were exactly as Anakin had imagined, stacks of dusty books lined the walls next to multiple full shelves and a kettle of perpetually boiling water for tea in the corner of the room. Various floating candles stayed in place at multiple parts of the chamber, most within arm’s reach, _for reading_ , Anakin knew. 

“No, it’s fine, it’s great.” He said as he sat down in the chair adjacent to the old desk he assumed Obi-Wan would be sitting behind. He swallowed deeply at the sound of Obi-Wan’s snowy owl, Leia, squeaking and flying around her cage when she saw Anakin.

“I think she’s missed you and Luke.” Said Obi-Wan, referring to her twin brother, Anakin’s owl. Him and Obi-Wan purchased the owls together in Diagon Alley Anakin’s second year, so that they’d always be able to write to each other. Anakin felt his chest burn when he thought about all the times he’d sent Luke to Obi-Wan, only to never receive a reply.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?” Anakin pushed, getting the hardest question out of the way as a palpable silence echoed throughout the room. Obi-Wan quietly walked over to his desk and sat on it like he did in class earlier that day. However, this time, he was closer. He lowered his back to get full eye contact with Anakin.

“I could ask you the same thing, you know.” He said, cocking that eyebrow up again.

“What do you mean?” Anakin asked, now getting angry and letting it show through the tone and volume of his voice. In the past few years, anger was his most common emotion, and could feel himself already resulting to it. Obi-Wan clasped his hands together tightly.

“I sent you many, many, letters, Anakin. So many that I thought perhaps Leia was eating them on her way to you.” This was the first time since his time as a student that Anakin had seen Obi-Wan so visibly flustered and upset. A pink flush rose to his cheeks and over his nose, a sign that he was angry, Anakin knew.

“Well I sent you letters too, Obi-Wan, you never sent anything back.” Anakin said, jumping to his feet, his stature towering over the young professor. Obi-Wan ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face, Anakin quickly looked away. Everything Obi-Wan did was too much for him.

“I never received any letters, Anakin. It appears as though you have not as well. Damn it,” Obi-Wan, with a harsh breath ripped the glasses off of his face, Anakin felt a sharp pang of sadness at their absence. “I knew something was wrong, I should have visited.”

“No,” Anakin reached out his hand to touch Obi-Wan, but quickly retracted it as he felt it wouldn’t be appropriate, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

"I'm so sorry Anakin, truly." Obi-Wan said, shaking his head in disappointment at himself.

While Anakin still felt that there were more forces than a few missed owls at work, he accepted that Obi-Wan had not, in fact, been ignoring him. He filed the thought back in his mind, it didn’t matter to him so much, the closer he got to his old friend.

“Although I do agree, you should have visited.” He darkly chuckled, sitting down next to Obi-Wan on his desk. He quietly laughed in reply.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have been so shocked when I first saw you today. Goodness, Anakin, you’ve gotten so strong.” 

Anakin shook his head and focused his attention on Leia, as he was now well aware of Obi-Wan _looking_ at him. He’d picked up exercising since Obi-Wan left, but nothing he thought was all too impressive.

“That’s saying a lot, coming from you, Professor.” He said, emphasizing the word to play at Obi-Wan’s nerves.

“Anakin, if you’d refrain from calling me that I’d greatly appreciate it. I’ve gotten Master several times today and that’s even worse.” Anakin felt the burning of the familiar pain he’d felt in the common room talking to Poe and Finn all over again. He didn’t want to think about the other students talking to Obi-Wan, calling him _Master_.

“How’s Padme?” Anakin felt his stomach fill with sand at the mention of her. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ her, because he did. Both of those things. He just didn’t love her as she deserved, there was a part of him that simply couldn’t.

“You know,” he looked up and at Obi-Wan, hoping that by making eye contact with him he’d magically understand what Anakin was trying to say about her, “same old same old.” Obi-Wan nodded, refusing to take his eyes off of Anakin.

“I see, that’s good, then, right?” Anakin shot him a painful grin.

“Right.”

The two continued to talk throughout the night, switching which side would stare intently at the other. Anakin told Obi-Wan all about his meetings with the Headmaster, how he’d taken particular interest in him after Obi-Wan left. He sat and listened as Obi-Wan shared stories of his brief time as an Auror. For as long as Anakin could remember, it was what Obi-Wan wanted to do. However, watching him sit on his desk, in his professor’s clothes and in his professor’s chambers, Anakin thought nothing could possibly suit his old friend better. The glances and smiles Anakin had been missing for so long from his old friend filled his heart to the brim, so much so, he thought it might explode. Right as Anakin was about to tell him about the time him and Poe were caught finding secret routes to Hogsmeade, the last floating candle burnt out. 

“I suppose it might be time for bed when even the enchanted candles are going off.” Obi-Wan said, kicking the tips of his loafers into Anakin's shoes. Anakin sleepily laughed at his joke, breathing hard and long at the closeness of the interaction. He rose up from his seat as Obi-Wan walked him to the door, not like Anakin couldn’t find it on his own.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Obi-Wan said.

“Tomorrow, Professor.” With a smile, _at last_.

Obi-Wan, for the last time that day, smiled and rolled his eyes at his old friend. Anakin played the tape back in his mind at least a hundred times that night, laying in his bed while everyone else was asleep. The brightness of Obi-Wan's smile, the smell of his cologne, memories he wanted to protect in his mind forever-far away from anybody who could touch them.

He smiled at the thought as he felt himself dozing off, however, couldn’t stop stirring on a single idea in his mind. His chest ached at the mere concept of it, knowing that if he thought about it any longer, the pain of thinking Obi-Wan was ignoring him, he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

_Why didn’t Obi-Wan get my letters?_

_Why didn’t I get his?_


	4. Teacher I Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and the other students are gathered in the Great Hall for a very important announcement. That is, of course, if Anakin can take his eyes off the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you like this chapter. It was tough to write, but your comments and kudos got me through it :) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Chapter name song creds: Teacher I Need You - Elton John)

Thunder boomed and shook through the giant glass windows of the Great Hall as students shuffled in. Anakin loved nights like this, something about the energy of a storm seemed to enchant the old castle. He was late, as per usual. He passed by his unamused peers in Slytherin house to sneak a spot with a few Gryffindors. Poe slid to the side, picking up a few books he’d placed down to save Anakin’s spot.

“If you weren’t the headmaster’s favorite you’d be expelled, you know that right?” Said Finn, who always claimed a spot next to Poe as well. 

Rey, a mousy, but beautiful seventh year Anakin had befriended through the pair, hushed the them with a stern finger to her lips. Poe smiled at Finn, a toothy, devilish grin. It made Anakin feel warm and cold somehow at the same time when he saw them interact. They were the only students he’d met at Hogwarts who felt the same way as him. They’d picked him up his fifth year after sharing a group project in Advanced Transfiguration. 

They were the only people who made Anakin feel as though he could be himself, at least, since Obi-Wan.

“Students of Hogwarts…” the familiar, grainy voice of Headmaster Palpatine rang though the Great Hall like an old bell. Anakin looked up to focus his attention, but instead, caught the gaze of Obi-Wan. His chest tightened at the sight of him, clothed in a dark, tight coat with a half-popped collar. He quickly removed a pair of thin glasses and pushed back the tan hair falling in his face. He was laughing at something the Transformations professor, Qui-Gon, a man with tired eyes and long brown hair had said.

“There’s professor Kenobi again, he’s quite handsome, isn’t he? I wouldn’t mind detention with him.”

“Don’t you mean _Naughty-Wan Kenobi_?”

Anakin flinched backwards, now taking his eyes off the young professor to Poe.

“What did they just call him?” He said, all the while, Headmaster Palpatine was droning on. He could feel a strip of heat spreading across his face and to his neck.

“I tried to tell you man.” Poe said, shrugging.

“What are you, first years?” Anakin said, nearly biting at the students, who were obviously taken aback by his comment. He opened his mouth again to unleash another, far worse, string of insults, but was stopped at the feeling of Rey’s cold palm on his clenched fist.

“Just because you’re jealous, Anakin, doesn’t mean you have to take it out on everyone else.” Her eyes were as fierce as a dragon, practically breathing fire onto him.

“If professor Kenobi would join me on stage,” Palpatine said, a sudden pit of silence filing into the Great Hall. Hushed whispers of crushing students once again buzzed in Anakin’s ears as Obi-Wan stood up and headed toward the podium. He looked back at Rey, his throat closing up and his brain fogging like he’d had a glass of fire whisky. _None of them should even have permission to say his name_.

“They don’t even know him.” He whispered, Rey squeezed his hand and mouthed, I know, before letting go. Palpatine cleared his throat before he continued his speech to the students.

“Because of the untimely and unfortunate results of years passed, most have assumed Hogwarts would never again host the Triwizard Tournament,” a resounding mess of gasps echoed throughout the room, “However, time has granted us the pleasure of proving us wrong. Master Kenobi, would you do the honors?”

Obi-Wan offered a polite bow to Palpatine like a knight to a king. Anakin thought he’d never looked better, dressed like an Auror, with the esteem and respect he’d always deserved. The young professor conjured a large, grey goblet, light blue flames licking the edges, at the flick of his wand.

“While I am certain the majority of the students here know exactly what this is, I’m happy to shed some light on the festivities that will be taking place this year.” Obi-Wan said to the crowd of completely silenced students, confidence surrounding his body like a small star.

“The Triwizard tournament is a series of three incredibly dangerous tasks,” a mirage of floating, ghost-like images peeled from Obi-Wan’s wand, _he’s gotten so powerful_. “All of which testing the bravery, wit, and strength of a chosen three witches or wizards. In years past, our sister schools of Durmstrang and Beaxbatons have joined us-“ A Hungarian Horntail flew from his wand and spun throughout the Great Hall, “however, this year, the three champions will all hail from Hogwarts.”

Anakin jolted backwards, ripping his attention away from Obi-Wan as Poe spun around, violently stacking his hands on his shoulders. Muffled conversations of shock and awe filled every corner of the room.

“Skyguy.” 

Anakin winced at the nickname, a reference to his disdain for quidditch. Poe’s dark brown eyes looked like a stack of wood that had taken flame, especially in contrast to the bright whites he was now abundantly aware of. Anakin took a sharp breath in when he realized he’d never before been so physically close to him before.

“This is it, Skywalker. We’re doing this.” Poe quickly squeezed his shoulders before letting go and turning to Finn. Anakin breathed a sigh of relief now that the closeness with his friend had been filled. 

The Great Hall was now erupting with excited students, all hoping to put their name in the Goblet of Fire. Anakin looked around the room for Obi-Wan, who caught his eye without a moment’s hesitation. He looked at Anakin from all the way up from the Goblet, a flick of teeth peeking through his impossible smile. For just a moment, Anakin swore that Obi-Wan winked at him. He quickly looked away, wondering if anybody had noticed.

-

“Here’s to hoping, they’ve got to choose at least one of us, right?” Poe said to the group. Anakin, Rey, Padme, and Finn all stood around the Goblet of Fire. Anakin knew the dangers of the Triwizard tournament well, but knew that the prize would be more than enough to provide for his mother back in London. He scribbled his name on a piece of parchment and threw it into the goblet.

“They’ll be lucky if they can read your handwriting.” Padme said, smiling at him. She’d elected to not put her name in the drawing, it was not something she found herself too interested in. Anakin laughed as he looked down at the small Ravenclaw. She placed a quick kiss on his cheek before leaving to meet with a study group.

“I’ll see you later, Ani.” She said. Anakin smiled as she left the room, watching her fade into the black of the corridor. Anakin _did_ care deeply for her, after all, she’d taken care of him after Obi-Wan had left, and has always been kind to him. He felt a sharp pang of sadness, however, anytime he saw her. He didn’t feel the same for her as he so hoped to, and it broke his heart to ever think about hurting her. Every time he saw her, he wished to love her better, to be in love with her. Unfortunately, every time, he failed.

“Don’t really know where the money would go, but anything is worth trying once.” Said Rey, her and Finn both placing their names in the goblet. 

“I’d say fame and glory is a nice addition to winning, don’t you think?” Said Poe, shooting a bright smirk over to Anakin. He rolled his eyes back pretending to be annoyed by the comments of his friend.

“I suppose you’re right about that, Mister Dameron.” Said the all-too familiar, accented baritone of one Professor Kenobi. Anakin quickly averted his sight to the professor; whose presence immediately rendered the room far too warm for him.

“You know, Professor Kenobi, I’d love to discuss that with you privately-“ Poe said, before Rey and Finn took hold of both of his arms, driving the flirty seventh year far away from the already tense situation.

“I’m sorry about him, Master Kenobi. We’ll see you in class.” Said Rey, eyeing Anakin, practically telling him to talk to the professor with her mind. The room was quiet now that Anakin and Obi-Wan were alone. Anakin walked closer to him, his eyes glued to the ground.

“Well.” Said Obi-Wan, his voice smooth and filling Anakin’s ears like water.

“Well, how can I help you?” Anakin said, smugly. He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation when he finally made eye contact with Obi-Wan. No matter what he did, every time he saw the young professor, his thoughts circled back to comments he continued to hear about him. Comments of his voice, his age, his appearance, it made Anakin nauseous to think of it all for too long.

“Did you enter, Anakin?” He swallowed at the sound of Obi-Wan saying his name.

“Why does it matter?” He asked, stopping in place to avoid getting too close to his old friend. Obi-Wan stepped closer, the heat radiating off of his body so intensely that Anakin could practically touch it.

“The Triwizard tournament is a very dangerous competition. I thought perhaps you had more regard for your own life.” Obi-Wan said, kindling the fire brewing inside of Anakin.

“Why would that matter to you, professor?” Anakin didn’t mean to come off so aggressive, and immediately regretted being so offensive with his old friend. However, something about the way students fawned over Obi-Wan made him feel crazy. And as Rey had put it, _jealous_. 

“I care about you, Anakin, I don’t want to see you hurt.” Obi-Wan stepped closer to him, reaching out his hand and touching his shoulder, softly digging his fingers into the fabric of his robe. Anakin shuddered at the sudden expression of closeness. He wanted so badly to reach out his hand and press his palm against Obi-Wan’s knuckles, he wanted to feel his skin, his heat. Pestered by the comments and remarks of the girls in the Great Hall, _he’s quite handsome_ , he rolled his shoulder away from Obi-Wan.

“Don’t touch me.” Anakin said, once again avoiding eye contact with Obi-Wan, “I don’t need your approval anymore.”

Without looking back, Anakin stormed down the corridor. Hot tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about his interaction with Obi-Wan. He couldn’t help it, when his mind went dark, there was no light that could pull him out. Especially when it came to his old friend.

His fingers and palms burned like he’d touched a hot iron the more he thought about it. He pushed them through his long, sweaty hair, wishing he had a band to tie it up in. He decided to go back to his room when he heard a breathy, inhuman voice whispering in his ears.

_“…Skywalker…Hogwarts’ Slytherin Prince…”_

Anakin slowly turned his back, wand ready in his right hand for anything. A quieter, girlish voice joined in.

_“…Little pet of dear professor Obi-Wan Kenobi…”_

Much to his surprise, Anakin was met by two large, black snakes curling towards him. Their scales dragging on the floor like beads. How are you talking to me? He wondered to himself.

 _“…We can hear you Skywalker...”_ Anakin, without hesitation, raked his wand from his pocket on the offensive. He focused his attention on them, imagining that perhaps the snakes were reading his thoughts.

“How can you hear me?” He shot back in realization that he’d, in fact, been speaking to them. But not in a way that felt or sounded remotely human, he’d never sounded like that before.

 _“…You can trust me, Ani...”_ A third snake slipped on top of his right foot and delicately circled around his leg. It was Padme, he grew immediately dizzy at the sound of her voice. The closer the snakes got to him, the lighter his head felt.

 _“…Our Triwizard champion…”_ Said the biggest snake of the few, Anakin’s heart sank into his stomach at the sound of his voice. _Obi-wan_. The snake was Obi-Wan. Anakin’s line of sight grew smaller as four black corners began to grow bigger in his vision, making everything look like he was using a telescope. The snake slinked up and sat on its tail, straitening itself up to meet Anakin’s face. His eyes even looked like Obi-Wan’s; bright blue, almost snow like. With a lick of its fangs with a pink colored forked tongue, Anakin felt himself fading away even further. The weight of his wand tripled as he dropped it to the ground.

 _“…Anakin…I ignored those letters, every one of them…why would I write to such a powerless, emotional child…?”_ Anakin felt a tear roll down his face as his strength continued to wane.

“Obi-Wan,” he whispered, almost instinctively, to the black snake. The weight of his own body was too heavy for him now, Anakin felt himself tipping backwards until he hit the ground. He felt the remaining snakes now crawling up his body until he could no longer distinguish what was skin and what was scales.

_“…You know what to do, Skywalker…”_

Just as Anakin was closing his eyes, he heard a familiar voice yelling his name from across the corridor. He didn’t have enough energy to open them anymore but could feel the red heat of a curse being directed to the snakes. Even his hearing was beginning to fail him, everything was beginning to sound like he was underwater, when he felt a pair of strong arms circling around his body. He was falling, sinking into darkness, but knew this touch anywhere. _Obi-Wan, like a prayer on his lips, Obi-Wan, is it really you?_. 

In one last attempt to stay awake, Anakin tried to reach up his hand to touch his old friend, thank him, but fell back instead. In the face of evil Anakin had never witnessed before, somehow, he’d never felt so safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com 
> 
> I take fic/one shot/headcanon requests and will write you just about anything :) Thanks for reading!


	5. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Kenobi can't hide how he really feels about young Skywalker when a certain name is drawn from the Goblet of Fire. And everyone at Hogwarts knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :) this is a short chapter, I hope you like it! Your comments and kudos keep me going. 
> 
> (Chapter name song creds: Seventeen - Heathers the musical)

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan cried, running down the corridor. He took in a sharp breath when he saw the lanky Seventh Year bolting towards him.

“Ten points from Ravencl-“ Anakin started, impersonating Headmaster Palpatine when Obi-Wan crashed into him. 

He’d hugged Padme before, hugged his mother, but nothing felt quite like this. Anakin frantically searched for air like a fish out of water, the act of intimacy had left him entirely breathless. He hurriedly wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, desperate for even a second more in this simple interaction. He didn’t even know why Obi-Wan was hugging him.

“God, sorry about that, I’m just so excited.” Obi-Wan said, tearing away from the hug as though it hadn’t left a permanent burn mark on Anakin’s chest. 

Anakin couldn’t help but notice how empty his arms felt, like someone had just taken away all of his possessions. Obi-Wan pulled farther away from him, cheeks flushed and peach bangs falling in his face. He was saying something, but Anakin couldn’t hear anything, only ringing and buzzing from the heat of Obi-Wan's body. He couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful Obi-Wan looked, he was _everything_ , he was barely seventeen. 

“Anakin, are you listening to me?”

The Fourth Year did his best to snap out of it, trying diligently to suppress the urge to ask Obi-Wan to hug him again. _Anything to touch him again_.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Obi-Wan filled him in on his acceptance to the Auror Academy, where he’d be trained to fight off dark wizards and dark magic. In any other situation, Anakin would’ve teased Obi-Wan, or begged him to stay and be a professor at Hogwarts instead. 

However, in the shell shock of Obi-Wan’s touch, Anakin found he couldn’t say much of anything at all. without thinking, Anakin reached his hands towards Obi-Wan, not considering the gaze of the other students in the corridor, and pulled him in for another, closer hug. Anakin dug his fingers into the muscles of Obi-Wan’s back and nested his head into his neck, pretending he could stay there forever.

“I’m happy for you, Obi-Wan.”

 _He loved him_ , and he couldn’t do much of anything at all about that, either.

-

Anakin sat up dizzily in his bed, or at least, what he thought was. He was sweating, he’d had that dream about Obi-Wan a thousand times, but it always left him angry and reaching for days he couldn’t go back to. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t forget it.

“Hey Ani, how are you feeling?” Asked the quiet, tender voice of Padme, Anakin turned over to look at her, taking a deep breath of air in. 

“I’m fine,” he began to tear the sheets off of his body, now realizing he was being treated in the Hospital Wing. “How long have I been asleep?”

Padme opened her mouth to speak when her dark eyes filled with tears. Anakin’s heart jumped to see her like this, despite how sick he felt standing up, he reached his hand out towards her small forearm. She quickly slipped away, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong Padme?” Anakin asked, concerned for the small Ravenclaw.

“It’s just,” she sniffed, bringing her small fingers up to her eyes and wiping the tears away, “I was here for a bit while you were sleeping.” Anakin shook his head, knowing how worried he likely made Padme, who was now softly giggling through a mess of tears.

"Please tell me what's wrong." He asked, staring deeply at her.

“I don't know what I expected. You just kept saying his name, Ani.”

Anakin swallowed deeply; he knew exactly who she was talking about. His face turned beet red and as hot as fire at the thought of Padme hearing him. 

“Who?” He asked, turning away from her, hoping that perhaps he was wrong, and the thought of his old friend would be far from his mind. Padme’s voice cracked as she pressed her small, painted fingernails to her lips and whispered what Anakin was most afraid of. _Obi-Wan Kenobi_ , powerful wizard, defense against the dark arts professor, Anakin’s deepest desire in a few syllables.

“Don’t make me say it, Ani.”

-

Anakin managed to be discharged from the Hospital wing in time for the drawing of the names of the champions of the Triwizard tournament. He was still weak, but couldn’t stand another moment of attention. Though Padme had stopped visiting him, Rey, Finn, and the Hospital Wing nurses were restless in their pursuit to make him feel uncomfortable. Even Poe had dropped by with a fist full of goodies while he was asleep. He’d slipped the last pumpkin pasty in his robe pocket to share with him at the drawing.

“What, you didn’t like my snacks?” Poe said, taking the other half of the pastry straight into his mouth. Anakin smiled, it was the first time in a few days that anything had managed to make him laugh. He slid in closer to Poe at the Gryffindor table with Rey and Finn, who were staring at him as though he would fall apart any second now.

“I can make gestures too, you know.” Anakin said, pushing Poe lightly with his palm. He was happy to be a part of regular life at Hogwarts, which was not a feeling he was used to.

“Students of Hogwarts,” said Headmaster Palpatine, commanding the attention of the room with a loud clap of his old, bony hands. He reached for the wand in his pocket, “tonight we will be drawing the names of our three Triwizard champions.” 

Anakin began to search for the face of Obi-Wan, who had thankfully stayed away from him while he was in the Hospital Wing. Anakin knew it was him who had saved him from the snakes and hadn’t properly thanked him.

It didn’t take very long before the ice-blue eyes of Obi-Wan glazed onto Anakin, staring at him with such intent Anakin thought he might melt under the pressure. He was wearing a dark formal robe that Anakin had never seen before, making him look so utterly grown-up. His mind went immediately back to his fourth year, to Obi-Wan hugging him. Anakin dug his fingernails into his palm, a practice he’d begun every time he thought about the memory. He quickly turned away from the eyes of the young professor. The room fell silent as Palpatine waved his wand over the Goblet of Fire situated in front of the professors, taking down the magical shield that prevented underage students from applying to the tournament.

“First name to be drawn from the goblet of fire is,” Palpatine fished a small white paper from the blue flames, “Rey Niima of Gryffindor house.” Claps erupted down the entirety of the Gryffindor table. Even Anakin couldn’t help but feel excited at the site of the brightest smile he’d ever seen her make.

“Students, please.” Palpatine said, once again calming the room to a harsh silence. “Our second champion, also from Gryffindor house,” Palpatine huffed, exasperated at whatever name he'd just read, “Poe Dameron.” A series of shouts and claps echoed all throughout the grand hall as Poe stood up in his seat, flaunting his hands up in the air and nodding his head. He was easily the most loved seventh year in all of the school, Palpatine rolled his eyes as the students continued to chant. Finn pulled the young lion down and threw his arms around him. A small chill went up Anakin’s spine as he watched them. He dug his fingers deeper into his palm.

“Students,” Palpatine said, raising his hands in the air, the third and last slip of paper between his fingers. 

Anakin knew it wouldn’t be him, there was no chance, not when hundreds of other far more worthy applicants had applied. He wasn’t even remotely close to the caliber of bravery and kindness as Poe and Rey, there was no way the Goblet would choose him. He caught Obi-Wan’s eyes once again, barely able to pull away from his stare.

“Our third champion,” Palpatine smiled a wicked grin “from Slytherin House, Anakin Skywalker.” 

Without warning, Obi-Wan jumped up in his seat, knocking the heavy chair he was sitting in away from him, causing a loud crashing sound. He did it without thought, almost as though his brain had left his body. He was looking at Anakin, staring at him like someone had just delivered him the worst news of his life. Obi-Wan wasn’t paying attention to the other professors around him who had managed to keep a more peaceful decorum, his one focus was Anakin. The silence in the room was palpable, what would’ve been applause from students was now attentive, direct stares onto the pair. Obi-Wan’s eyes looked so sad, Anakin thought, now drawing a drop of blood from digging his fingernails into his palm. 

“My apologies.” Obi-Wan whispered, shuddering, realizing the spectacle he’d caused and sitting back down into his chair, eyes still glued on Anakin. Poe turned around to face Anakin, eyebrow raised and brown pupils huge.

“What the hell was that?” He whispered. Anakin turned away from Poe, thinking about Padme, about Obi-Wan, about how his skin stung against his robes. He ran his hands through his sweaty hair, pressing his wrists against his eyes.

“Any who…” Palpatine droned on, emphasizing his vowels in obvious annoyance, instructing the students to finish their meals get a good night’s rest. 

Anakin felt his soul float away from his body for the rest of the night, brushing off "good wishes" and "congratulations" from student after student. He didn’t know what to say, after all, the Triwizard tournament paled in dominance to Obi-Wan in his mind. _Why would he do that?_ Anakin thought, revisiting the memory over and over again as he struggled to fall asleep that night. _Obi-Wan causing a scene, all because his name had been drawn?_

When sleep finally came, he had the same dream as the night before, and the night before that. It was the same beginning everytime: It was a sunny day, he was fifteen. Anakin laid still in the peace of this memory in his bed, no matter how hard he’d tried to hide it before. The tiny blood-stain on his palm was a reminder of it's prevalence. He couldn’t help it, though it tortured him, the thought remained in his mind like a permanent fixture. He returned to it over and over again, like a repeated song lyric or an incantation. 

Back to the long, strong fingers of his best friend, back to fourth year, back into the arms of Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com
> 
> I take fic/one shot/headcanon requests and will write you just about anything :) Thanks for reading!


	6. Role of a Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Qui-Gon Jinn goes to a familiar face at the Ministry of Magic to discuss a growing darkness at Hogwarts. Meanwhile, Anakin lets his true feelings for Obi-Wan get in the way of, well, everything.
> 
> Chapter name song: Role of a Lifetime - Bare the musical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks!!! I worked really hard on this chapter and I really hope you like it. I know it's long and slow burny but I promise action is coming soon. Thank you for your comments and kudos, it all means the world to me :)

Qui-Gon Jinn was not a wizard who often trusted other wizards.

This very principle is what made him such a good transfigurations professor. He was dedicated to the study of magic and its relationship to the one casting the spell and not so much the relationships of other witches and wizards. This principle, however, is also what made him so sensitive to the presence of dark magic. 

“Something dangerous is happening at Hogwarts. I’m sure you’ve been informed of the attack on Anakin Skywalker.”

He did not like to venture to the Ministry of Magic headquarters, in fact, one would say he often avoided it. However, one of the few relationships he allowed himself to wholly place his trust in belonged there. With Yoda, Minister of Magic.

“Hear about this, I have. Most unfortunate.” Yoda replied, slipping out of his seat to face Qui-Gon. 

Yoda was a strange looking wizard; he stood at about four feet tall, walked on a brown cane at all times of the day, and donned an odd, green-like complexion. Oddest of all, however, was the parable-like way he spoke. Yoda was the Headmaster of Hogwarts during Qui-Gon’s time as a student and had closely mentored him as a young Auror before his decision to return to Hogwarts. 

“Young Kenobi, what does he say? Against Palpatine’s wishes, I insisted on his hiring.” Yoda asked, furrowing his eyes in concentration.

“He’s the one who rescued Anakin from the attack. I’ve discussed it with him, although it is obvious that his attachment to the boy makes him a biased source.” Qui-Gon replied, thinking back to his days instructing a young, brilliant Obi-Wan. 

“Further discussion is needed I see. A worthy friend in Kenobi, you will have.”

“So you agree with me, then?” Qui-Gon asked, directing the conversation back to the feelings he’d had since the nights of Anakin’s attack. He’d had visions of dark clouds sweeping the corridors of Hogwarts, soot licking every corner of every room. He couldn’t bear to ignore it any longer.

“A disturbance at Hogwarts, I have felt. Watch over him with your life, you will. A very strong wizard Skywalker has shown to be.” He said, Qui-Gon unable to dispute him on this fact. After all, Anakin had shown an unmatched natural prowess in his courses at Hogwarts, despite his uncaring demeanor. It came as no surprise to him why dark magic would cross his path, as it did for any great and powerful wizard.

“Any suspicions, you have had?”

“Not yet.” Qui-Gon replied, a swift silence piercing at the end of his sentence. 

“Go deeper, you must. Speak more with Kenobi, you will.”

-  
Anakin Skywalker was not used to attention. He preferred to keep to himself and a few others, however, lately he seemed to find himself as the unfortunate, burning, center of attention.

“Skywalker, you’re up.” Boomed the low, intimidating voice of Professor Ren. Their seventh year Care of Magical Creatures class was outside today, something the brooding, dark haired Professor elected to do often. He was standing next to a young, squeaking Hippogriff. It was nearly the size of the Professor himself, Anakin thought as he approached it.

“Now what is the proper way to greet a Hippogriff?” Anakin bowed to the large, admittedly intimidating animal, and held out an open palm, it no doubt sniffing the dried blood from the day previous. Anakin liked animals and had always done well naturally with them. After all, they seemed to be some of the only living creatures who did not look at him like a spectacle. 

“Now what?” Professor Ren said, big hands folded neatly behind his back. Anakin slowly raised his head and looked deeply into the large blue eyes of the Hippogriff; whose black slits of pupils looked back intently at him. Anakin felt the glares of his classmates burning at his back. He was now far more than the infamous Slytherin reject; he was Anakin Skywalker- bad with snakes, Triwizard champion, and at the hands of Obi-Wan Kenobi, _center of attention_.

“It better not hurt Skywalker or Professor Kenobi will have its head.” Mouthed Mace Windu, a Slytherin boy Anakin had never gotten along with. A red knot of heat pooled at the base of his neck at the collective laughter that followed the comment. “ _Focus_ , Anakin” commanded Professor Ren, effectively hushing the seventh years.

Anakin slightly turned his head to the side as he continued to stare deeper at the wild, magical animal. “They’re all looking at us, you know.” He whispered, the Hippogriff finally locking eyes with Anakin. It threw its massive wings back into the air and nudged its head into Anakin’s chest, cooing loudly. “Better be careful, _Ani_ , Professor Kenobi can’t rescue you here.” Windu piped again, crossing his arms, wand held loosely in his fingers.

“That’s enough,” Kylo interjected.

“Yeah, lay off, Windu.” Poe said, ignoring the professor and ripping his wand from his robe pocket. 

Anakin buried his fingers into the coarse fur of the Hippogriff to prevent him from using magic on the young Slytherin. 

“You’re one to talk, Dameron, should I go get Finn for you too?” 

Red-hot anger burned through Anakin’s veins as he drew his wand from his pocket. It was fine when the students were coming after him, but coming for Poe, and Finn who wasn’t even there, was different. Magic rang through his wand as he pointed it at Windu, the hippogriff nervously trotting behind him.

“If you wanted to fight me all you had to do was say so,” Anakin said, cocky as he’d ever been, Poe sliding next to him in defense.

“Skywalker, Dameron.” Professor Ren said, bored and loudly, “enough of this.” Kylo Ren was an avid sponsor of the Slytherin quidditch team, which meant that his members never got in trouble, including Mace Windu. “Both of you will serve detention with the Groundskeeper, helping him with whatever he asks of you.” Anakin scoffed, shoving his wand back into his robe pocket and slumping back in his spot while Windu chuckled loudly at him. 

“Windu, ten points from Slytherin. Another word and I’ll make it fifty, now can we _please_ get back to class”  
-

Anakin and Poe went to the Groundskeeper, a friendly, giant-like squib affectionately called “Chewy” by the students, after a very quiet dinner with Finn and Rey. The sun was rapidly setting as they approached the large figure who loudly grunted at them. Poe and Anakin had served enough time in detention to know that meant they’d be pulling Devil’s Snare and Shrivelfig well past curfew. 

“Do you regret it?” Anakin asked Poe, both of them knee deep into dirt and weeds.

“I don’t regret anything.” Poe said, pulling out some plant Anakin recognized from his Herbology textbook and tossing it into the pile they’d gathered so far, “at least not when it comes to you or Finn.”

Anakin knew that Poe and Finn were close, it was obvious to anybody who went to Hogwarts who saw them interact. However, the pair had never explicitly stated the nature of their relationship, and at least to Anakin, they didn’t really need to.

“It’s not the easiest hiding, Skyguy, but it’s okay.” Poe said, curling the right side of his lip up in a crooked grin. Anakin hadn’t expected pulling weeds on Hogwarts grounds detention with Poe would wring out such personal _feelings_ , but yet, here they were. It took every bit of restraint on Anakin’s part not to lash out to hide his emotions, but something about this moment felt almost pacifistic, like there was nothing he needed to protect himself from. To Anakin, Poe had always seemed fearless, to see him so humbled scared him. 

“What are you talking about?” Anakin asked, turning to face his friend for just a moment. _There was only one thing he could be really talking about_. 

“Finn, you know, we’re close, but in a different way.”

Anakin, in an act of reverence, took the time to really listen. After all, Poe might be the only person at Hogwarts who would understand the pain he was in over Obi-Wan. How it felt to watch his every move in class, to wince at even the thought of being near him. “How do you do it?” Anakin asked, summoning all the courage in his body.

He didn’t have to tell Poe that he was talking about Obi-Wan. As the pair of seventh years were really having two conversations. One out loud, that people could listen to, and one in silence, that only they would understand.

“It’s a role of a lifetime, that’s for sure.” Poe said, uttering a weak chuckle. He looked up at Anakin, who, for whatever reason, was able to feel comfort by looking directly at him.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Anakin said, also following with a sad, weak laugh. The silent conversation resumed: Poe smiled at him, he was sure now that he was the only person who knew how he felt. _Who_ Anakin felt for.

“You know, I hope you win.” Anakin said, doing his best to diffuse the bomb of the conversation, the sun now completely set and darkness circling them.

“I hope you win too.” Poe said, without an ounce of sarcasm. The pair continued plucking random plants from the grounds, likely doing the exact opposite of what they were supposed to do. Anakin felt a sliver of happiness he couldn’t hide, so much so, that he thought he might stay outside for the rest of the night with Poe.

“Mister Dameron, I believe you’re relieved from your position now; I’m told you never actually pointed your wand at anyone.” Anakin wouldn’t be telling Poe much of anything else that night at the now ever-present voice of Professor Kenobi. Poe shot a glance over at Anakin, now feeling somewhat protective over his now, closer, friend.

Anakin nodded, as if to tell him, _I’ll be okay_. It was getting late, and the two had served well past their term in detention.

“I’ll see you in class Professor.” Said Poe, saluting with his index and pointer finger as he stood up to walk away. Anakin didn’t want him to leave, but knew he’d need to speak to Obi-Wan privately. After all, he hadn’t spoken to him just the two of them since the night in Obi-Wan’s office, and goodness knew nobody had ever needed to speak more than the two.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Obi-Wan said, seeming to Anakin as though he was almost nervous. “Of course,” Anakin replied, avoiding his eyes once again. They walked in silence for a few moments towards the Forbidden Forest, far from the eyes of Hogwarts students.

“Anakin, I’ve been quite ignorant lately. I should’ve visited you more in the Hospital Ward, but you know abundantly well how people react to our friendship.” Anakin winced at the word, _friendship_ , it didn’t seem like enough for them, for how he felt about Obi-Wan. “I didn’t know you visited me.” Anakin said, still looking at the ground. His breath had grown shallow at the thought of that night. He’d gotten close to telling Poe about it but didn’t know how he’d react at the idea of revisiting it, or what he’d say about Anakin being a Parselmouth. 

Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin, staring at him like he always did. “What happened that night?” Anakin grew nauseous as he prepared himself to revisit that darkness. The sound of Padme’s voice echoing throughout the hallway, the words he heard Obi-Wan say. Though he knew he’d been deceived, he knew he couldn’t escape it.

“The snakes, they were talking to me, and I think I was talking to them.” He clenched his teeth together, being a Parselmouth was almost always a warning sign of a dark wizard, something Anakin desperately did not want to be.

“Being able to communicate with snakes is an incredible gift, Anakin. You need not be embarrassed.” Obi-Wan said, immediately pressing on Anakin’s vulnerabilities, as he so often did.

“That’s not all, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, doing his best to speak through the knot in his throat, revealing how much it _hurt_ to go back to that night. “They sounded like people I know…Like Padme and,” he stopped briefly to gather himself, “like you.”

Obi-Wan stopped in place, they were now at the outer edge of the Forbidden Forest, the warmth of candles inside Hogwarts barely reaching them. “What do you mean, Anakin?” Obi-Wan said, now actively pursuing eye contact with the Slytherin.

“It _was_ you, Obi-Wan” Anakin said, feeling hot tears rise up in face. He clenched his jaw as he turned to face Obi-Wan’s sharp blue eyes. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something when Anakin interrupted him. _He was so emotional lately_. “It was you and you and you said horrible things.”

_…why would I write to such a powerless, emotional child…?_

The words racked against Anakin’s brain like a caged animal. He fought the tears now growing in his eyes by pushing his fingers in his face, doing everything he could to avoid looking at Obi-Wan anymore. The edges of his long, light hair hugging his neck, his long coat, how he looked in the light of the moon.

“What did the serpent say, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, now pulling the words from Anakin’s chest.

“You said…” Anakin continued to shy away from him, “you purposely didn’t reply to any of my letters, you called me weak and a child.”

“Look at me Anakin.” He said as Anakin jerked his body away from Obi-Wan reaching his hand out to touch him. He was feeling dizzy standing so close to him and being vulnerable about the whole situation. “ _Please_ ,” Obi-Wan pleaded, this time managing to grab onto the fabric of Anakin’s robes. 

“It wasn’t me,” he said, planting his fingers deeper into Anakin’s clothing in an attempt to bring him closer. “I sent you hundreds of letters, _look me in the eyes and know it wasn’t me_.” 

Anakin took a deep breath, labored by the tears that Obi-Wan could very well see now that they were back in eye contact. Anakin thought about taking Obi-Wan’s face in his hands and pressing his forehead against his, to breathe with him even for just a moment. He wanted to sink into Obi-Wan’s arms and tell him _everything_ , from the beginning to the end, until the sun came up and went down again. But there was Padme, there was every student at Hogwarts, there were a thousand things stopping him.

“I can’t get it out of my mind.” Anakin said, fingers tearing at the seething headache that was now growing behind his eyes. What he meant to say was _I can’t get you out of my mind_. It was the truer statement, but highly inappropriate and as he saw it- frankly unreciprocated. The once indulgent thoughts of letting Obi-Wan in, of touching him and being honest with him, were now shrouded in a cloak of darkness Anakin couldn’t seem to control. “You don’t know what it was like, it just felt so real.” Anakin managed out, voice cracking and nearly yelling now at the force of an oppressed sob.

“You _know_ that’s not how I feel about you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, his emotional guards coming down at the sound of the sadness growing in his voice. 

“I don’t really know how you feel about me, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, nearly biting at his old friend, hurt filling his words in the form of anger. Anakin fought harder to push back tears as he thought about what was really on his mind. How his heart jumped every time he so much as existed next to Obi-Wan, the anger and jealousy he felt every time his name was mentioned. He _loved_ him, he couldn’t _breathe_ around him.

“Just go professor.”

“ _Professor?_ ” Obi-Wan asked, now folding his arms across his in frustration, voice raising in volume at his apparent shock. “Is that how you really feel Anakin?”

“Yes, please, just let me go, I didn’t ask you to come save me this time, or ever.” Anakin ripped at Obi-Wan, the words betraying him as they rolled off his lips. It felt worse than screaming, like it the worst thing he’d ever said. _Please don’t go_ , he thought, _don’t leave me again_ , the words stung against his brain with the knowledge that he’d never say them out loud, that they deceiving everything he was telling his best friend.

“My apologies, then.” Obi-Wan said, voice quiet in the wake of Anakin’s words. Every part of Anakin regretted his actions and wished he could go back and take away every venomous word he’d used against his old friend. It made him sick to hear how sad he’d made him. 

Without turning back, Anakin walked towards the castle, unbothered by the prospect of getting caught after curfew. He pushed the palms of his hands up into his eyes to keep himself from looking back, in fears that the sight of Obi-Wan would trigger the dam of tears he was holding away. _He didn’t know what it felt like, he would never know what it felt like._

Obi-Wan buried his boots into the wet earth of the Hogwarts grounds, his fingers and temples hot with rage and _feeling_. He’d never been so out of control, so emotional. It was the role of a lifetime, keeping it all away from Anakin. 

Obi-Wan knew _exactly_ what it felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you especially to the few folks who have stuck with me through this entire fic so far, your comments mean the absolute world to me.
> 
> I take fic/one shot/headcanon requests and will write you just about anything :) Thanks for reading!


	7. Til Kingdom Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the morning of the first Triwizard task approaches, Anakin wishes he could get back on good terms with Obi-Wan. A dangerous event might just force him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sweet folks! This is a super long chapter (sorry), but I worked super hard on it and I really hope you like it :)
> 
> Chapter name song creds: Til Kingdom Come - Coldplay

Obi-Wan had attempted to, but couldn’t quite place in time, the exact moment he fell for Anakin. 

He thought, perhaps, it was the time they snuck out onto the Quidditch field, much against Obi-Wan’s wishes. It was late at night, the beginning of Anakin’s Fourth Year and Obi-Wan’s Seventh. Anakin found the rules of Quidditch too oppressive for him, but loved the act of flying. 

“Are you coming?” Said Anakin, his hair short and sweaty in the humidity of the Fall, old Nimbus 2000 in hand. Obi-Wan kicked off the ground and shot in the sky, he liked flying too, but not nearly as much as his partner. The two zoomed around, loudly laughing and shouting until they crashed into each other, simultaneously knocking the other off their broomstick. They both ungracefully landed hard on the ground, though Obi-Wan couldn’t hear the _thud_ of it over Anakin’s loud, genuine laughter. Obi-Wan thought perhaps he’d never seen Anakin laugh so intensely before, laying down next to him in the dewy grass, toothy grin glowing in the light of the moon.

“Why are you laughing?” Obi-Wan asked, now beginning to giggle too at the sight of the uncomposed Fourth year. 

“I’ve,” Anakin placed his hand over his mouth, blaring laughs still seeping through, “I’ve never had so much fun Obi-Wan, why did you agree to this?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t take his eyes off of him, in fact, looking at Anakin, happy and face covered in the darkness of the night, tall frame leaning in so close to him, he could barely even breathe.

 _Because I’d do anything for you_ , Obi-Wan thought.

“Just thought I might let you get me into trouble one last time.” Obi-Wan said, locking eyes with Anakin, whose laughing had now settled. 

_Absolutely anything for you._

-

It was the morning of the very first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and Anakin was very nauseous. His stomach churned and fought against the smell of eggs and toast as he sat with Poe, Finn, and Rey for breakfast that morning. Despite the effort of professors trying to sanctify the tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, Rey, Poe, and Anakin all remained very close, and discussed their predictions for the first task at length. Anakin and Finn sat, nervous and stomachs growling while Poe and Rey scarfed down oatmeal, jam, and the like.

“What if you die? Hm?” Finn asked, his dark eyes glaring deeply at Poe as though he was casting a spell. 

“At least we’ll die with full stomachs,” Rey eyed Anakin, “unlike you.”

Death felt like a reasonable alternative to Anakin, who had recently suffered some emotional damage. Padme had barely spoken to him since their interaction at the Hospital Ward, not even to wish him good luck for his first task. And as for Obi-Wan, well, he figured he was as good as dead to the young professor. He’d been a constant fixture in Anakin’s mind from the moment he arrived at Hogwarts, but after their unfortunate, loud fight in the courtyard, he hadn’t so much as made eye contact with him in Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

The Seventh years finished their breakfast in silence, when Professor Ren entered the champion’s tent. Everyone at the table shifted in their seat, something about the Professor commanded attention from every set of eyes in the room. Whether it was his long, black hair, intense eyes, or intimidating height, nobody could ignore it. Even Anakin shuffled in his seat, looking down at his empty plate when he entered the room.

“Good morning students. I imagine you have all sorts of ideas about today’s task.”

The three had all been provided with a broomstick, a basic model, nothing special. However, it was enough to ensure that there would be no enchantments. Professor Ren leaned back in place; strong arms folded into a cross.

“I trust you know the rules of Quidditch,” he said, taking a particular glance at Anakin, who was renowned as an incredible flyer, but actively denounced Quidditch. He didn’t like the hundreds of rules, the fanbase following, and most of all-anything that required him to participate in a team effort. Anakin knew how his opponent, Poe looked in the air, like a hawk, he’d been on the Quidditch team since his first year, which was not a common achievement.

“Be out on the field in five minutes.” Professor Ren said, dark low voice intimidating as ever. Poe looked over at Anakin, a swell of happiness bringing a pink flush to his face. 

“It’s quidditch, Skyguy.” Poe laughed, throwing a hand around Anakin’s shoulder, “we're playing _Quidditch_.” 

Rey rolled her eyes at the pair as she stood up. Her hair was tied up in three small buns, something Anakin hadn’t seen her do before, he quite liked it. Against all odds that the three would be competing against each other, he felt, somehow, that he’d never been closer to his friends.

“Well, are we doing this or are you two going to surrender now?” She said, a rare, bright smile making both Poe and Anakin take a sharp breath in. Poe slapped Anakin’s back one more time as he hopped up from his seat. The three entered the arena, roaring applause followed as they walked to the center of the Quidditch field, where a cage nearly the size of the stadium was waiting. Anakin had never seen so many people in his life, and they were here to watch him.

Upon first glance, Anakin had no idea what he was looking at. He thought at first it might be a dragon, but the creature donned three large, scaly heads, _one for each of us_ , he looked over at Poe and Rey in concern. Unsurprisingly, Poe seemed unafraid, he shrugged at Anakin, his shoulders nearly touching is curly black hair.

“Got to go somehow.” He said, mounting his broom and kicking off the ground, a fit of dust following him, Anakin and Rey quickly following behind.

He knew there was no way for him to find Padme or Obi-Wan’s face in the crowd, not that their presence would make the task any easier, anyway. He looked down from his broom to what he now realized was a Runespoor. Legendary three headed snake from the outer regions of Africa- he’d only seen paintings of them in his textbooks. His stomach growled loudly in a concentrated mixture of anxiety and hunger from skipping breakfast. 

Professor Ren stepped onto the field, dark green, almost black robes flowing behind him in the sharp wind of the Autumn morning. He pulled a huge, cherry-colored wand from his robe pocket and with a certain effortlessness that made Anakin a little warm inside, conjured the five balls of Quidditch. However, instead of one snitch, there was three, like the heads of the snake; there was one for each of them. The tiny golden balls hovered in the sky, sparkling in the light of the sun before promptly disappearing.

Kylo Ren directed his wand at the cage that contained the Runespoor, so delicately it was as though he was conducting an orchestra. The three heads hissed loudly, each neck seeming one hundred feet long, possibly longer. Anakin looked at Rey, wishing he could communicate with her using his mind. A bead of sweat fell down the side of Anakin’s head as the warmth of the Runespoor filled the stadium, loud hissing now silencing the applause. Ren threw one large hand in the air as he stepped away from the beast, shooting a blast of fire up into the clouds, the chains that bonded the Runespoor all breaking in half, crowd loudly screaming.

Anakin kicked off into the sky, bright wind pinching at his eyes. He took a deep breath in at his first coy avoidance of the Runespoor; nearly grazing its pale yellow eyes. The snake loudly hissed and sent a sharp bite Anakin’s way, causing him to shoot back at the near force and fear of the beast. The crowd erupted in applause at what Anakin assumed was likely Poe making the first score. Anakin felt, perhaps, he’d never been so scared before in his life. Save the time he had to hide underneath Obi-Wan’s bed during Ravenclaw room inspections, which unfortunately, had to be done by Professor Ren, as well.

The game presumed as expected. Rey, with expert dexterity, used her small frame to her advantage, zooming past Anakin. Anakin managed to score a couple points, shooting a quaffle when he saw it- zooming past all three heads of the Runespoor- a small, gleaming circle. He’d found the first snitch. He flew in between two heads of the Runespoor, wind blowing in his long hair. He was scared out of his mind to be close to such a creature, but somehow, the act of simply flying again was enough to give him the strength he needed. He flew so fast past the body of the Runespoor he felt the burn of its scales, Anakin felt a grin creeping across his face.

_…Anakin…_

A sharp pain stung behind Anakin’s eyes as a low, familiar voice entered his ears. He focused his attention back on the snitch that was now swerving in between the long, whipping tail of the Runespoor.

_…I know you can hear me Skywalker…_

Anakin was hit by a sudden wave of dizziness as the voice grew in volume. He was immediately brought back to the night of the Triwizard Tournament announcement, when he was attacked by the three serpents alone in the corridor. He flew his broom farther in the air, _anything_ to get rid of the voices.

_…Cmon…Skyguy…don’t you want a taste of darkness…?_

Anakin winced, gripping hard to his broom as the dizziness grew, Poe. The raspy, hissing voice that called out to him was Poe. He looked down at the Runespoor and quickly around the stadium. He knew this feeling all too well, it was exactly what had happened to him before. His head felt so cloudy, like he was lost, and had never been on a broomstick before. He searched the stadium for Poe, just in case, just to know it really wasn’t him.

_…It would make you more powerful…and maybe you’d finally be good enough for dear Professor Kenobi…_

Anakin felt himself almost tipping off his broom at the comments, _how could Poe say that to him?_

“You aren’t real, it’s not really you.” He hissed, shouting back at the Runespoor, doing his best to keep himself upright.

_…Did you honestly think we were friends? Like that afternoon pulling weeds meant anything…Oh Anakin…_

The voice uttered a sharp, dark giggle that Anakin had heard from Poe so many times before. The voice filled Anakin’s ears like he was underwater, blocking out the sounds of the crowd. Anakin could feel himself sinking back into darkness as his left hand slipped off the broomstick. He pushed his fingers into his temples in an attempt to calm his headache, the temptation to close his eyes growing larger by the second.

“Anakin!” Poe yelled out to him, flying towards the Slytherin, but blocked aggressively by a hissing head of the Runespoor, “Anakin!” he cried out again, his voice cracking out of fear. He could see Anakin far in the sky, his hand planted in to his face, body balancing on and off his broom. 

_…It didn’t mean a thing…you don’t mean a thing to me…_

Anakin looked down from his broom at the huge, slotted eyes of the Runspoor. The tail coiled in a nice loop around the three lengthy necks, making the beast as a whole seem far larger than the field itself. Anakin felt a pool of acid bubble in his stomach, causing a thick line of nausea at the edge of his seething headache. Everything was spinning around him, as a familiar darkness began to fill the corners of his vision. His right hand slipped off of his broom as Anakin began to tip backwards. 

“Anakin please!” Poe yelled out, once again. He threaded through the heads of the Runespoor, desperate to reach his friend, when one of the heads gripped into the bristles of Poe’s broom, knocking him backwards into the complete opposite side of the stadium. Anakin felt one last sting at his heart as he heard the shout of the dark-haired Gryffindor, when couldn’t see anything anymore, and plummeted off of his broom stick. 

Echoes of screams and gasps filled the stadium as Anakin fell to the ground, the angry heads of the Runespoor blocking Poe or Rey from being able to catch Anakin. He heard someone shouting his name, over and over again when his body hit the ground, and suddenly, everything going dark. 

Obi-Wan’s heart sank as he saw Anakin, pale and silent against the tough terrain of the Quidditch stadium. He practically leapt from his seat to be the first one to him, shoving everyone out of his way. Had the Headmaster not been in his way, he would have cursed the whole circle of people around him with a flick of his wand. _It was his job to protect him._

Obi-Wan was suddenly brought back to his time as an Auror as he jolted down to the stadium. It wasn’t that he didn’t like being an Auror, in fact, he _loved_ it. But every victory, every capture of an infamous Dark Wizard, he found all he could think about was Anakin. Not as the little First year who quipped at his heels, but the grown, _brilliant_ Fourth year. Anakin who, despite his lack of motivation, excelled far past any student Obi-Wan had ever seen. Anakin who was older than his classmates, far more emotional, more grown up. He, against his wishes and multiple variations of sleeping potions, dreamt of Anakin in great detail nearly every night during his time as an Auror.

The dreams were always the same, Anakin would be in trouble, consumed by some kind of darkness, sometimes dementors, sometimes creatures far worse. Obi-Wan would curse away the darkness and run towards Anakin so realistically he could feel the pain in his feet when he woke up. He’d sink to the ground and pick up the unconscious Slytherin, holding him in his arms and clinging to the fabric of his uniform like Anakin would drown if he didn’t. Obi-Wan would wake up in a fit, chest tight like a pair of sharp claws were squeezing it, sweating and eardrums pounding.

These were the horrifying feelings that consumed Obi-Wan’s entire body when he saw Anakin fall from his broom, scarily high in the sky, blue-grey eyes completely shut. He barely remembered getting up from his seat and making it down to the courtyard, nonetheless, passing by a giant Runespoor, _he had to get to Anakin, he had to save him_.

“Kenobi get the Hell out of there!” Loudly called out Professor Ren, shouting curses to shield him from the sharp fangs of the magical beast that towered over Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon remembered what Yoda had told him, that he needed to keep the young, _idiotic wizards_ safe, and rushed down to the grounds from his seat with the professors.

Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath, he could see Anakin now, body so limp and lifeless Obi-Wan thought he might be sick. The giant, second head of the Runespooor hissed at Obi-Wan and took a sharp jab at his body, Obi-Wan fell on his back to avoid the huge fangs that were now inches away from him. He ripped his wand out of his pocket when he heard Qui-Gon loudly curse the at Runespoor, _Petrify_!

“Get the boy, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan quickly sat up, his legs weak and shaky with fear as he approached Anakin. Like he’d envisioned in his dreams so many years ago, what felt like a cloud of darkness surrounded the air that Anakin existed in. Obi-Wan felt it so deeply as he wrapped his hands around Anakin’s chest, lifting up from the ground and in a rush of adrenaline, hoisting him into his arms. He felt his chest contract at the touch of Anakin’s warm skin and undeniable pulse, he was _still alive_. Obi-Wan could see Kylo and Qui-Gon casting a large forcefield around the Runespoor as he rushed to the tent with the other champions. 

Before he knew it, Anakin was taken away by the Medical Ward Witches, who lifted Anakin’s body into a cot with a swish of their wands. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, like they’d taken away something that _belonged_ to him. He wanted them to give Anakin back, he could heal him as good as any Wizard. 

He felt a warm hand at his shoulder, and the low grumbling of Qui-Gon talking to him, but Obi-Wan couldn’t hear anything. All he could think about was Anakin- Anakin hurt, likely frightened, and all alone. Obi-Wan looked down at the dirt beneath his shoes in the Champion's tent, focusing his eyesight on his shoe laces, because if he didn’t focus on something other than Anakin, he might go chasing after him.

-

A groggy and disheveled Obi-Wan Kenobi was the last person Anakin Skywalker imagined he would wake up next to in the Hospital Ward. He had some open book still firmly gripped in his left hand and his head resting in the palm of his right. He was wearing the glasses that Anakin liked and a tight, Ravenclaw-blue sweater. His eyes were grey and tired, his hair messy and obviously dirty.

“Are you actually awake this time?” Obi-Wan asked, his eyes glazing up from the book as he shut it. He softly removed the glasses from his face and hooked them onto his sweater. “You opened your eyes a couple days ago and it scared the daylights out of your friend, Rey.” Anakin’s heart surged at the thought of her, _how long had he been asleep_? Suddenly, the events of the first task came flooding back to him, he jolted up in his seat, hissing at the sharp pain in his side.

“You must not do that,” Obi-Wan said, reaching his arms out as though he was going to push Anakin down.

“Yeah, I see why.” Anakin said, his voice cracking after not speaking for a few days now. 

“Did I win?” Anakin said with a weak smile. Obi-Wan loudly scoffed, smiling now as well. Anakin thought about him and Obi-Wan’s last interaction, the night at the Forbidden Forest and smiled to himself, it all seemed so foolish now.

“No, your friend, Poe won. In fact, I believe he broke a record for most points as a single player in a game of Quidditch in such a short amount of time. You all moved forward to the next task, much against my wishes.” Obi-Wan said, remembering his argument with Headmaster Palpatine about Anakin continuing on in the tournament. Anakin sighed in relief, leaning his head back into his pillow. Feint memories of the first task began to swell in his mind when his thoughts shot back to Obi-Wan. _How long had he been here?_

“You waited for me, didn’t you?” Anakin said, hiding a coy laugh under his breath, teasing the young Professor. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, uncrossing his right leg and sinking his elbows into his thighs as he bent down.

“Saved you too, again, don’t forget that one.”

“How long did you wait for me to wake up?” Anakin said, teeth now peeking through a devilish grin. 

“I’m not telling you, and I’m a professor so I can command everyone else not to tell you, either.” Obi-Wan said, pulling a small laugh out of Anakin.

“You can’t scare me like that again, it was very foolish.” Obi-Wan said, a chokehold of emotion causing his voice to crack. He slipped out of his seat, planted his knees on the hard ground and rested his head on Anakin’s bed, now only inches away from him. Obi-Wan surveyed the room, knowing that if anybody caught him so close to a student, they’d both likely never let on the Hogwarts campus again. 

Anakin felt his heart tighten at the feeling of Obi-Wan so close to him, so much so he thought it might break in half. He wanted nothing more than to move to the side and have Obi-Wan lay down next to him. He wanted to feel his strong, lean arms wrapped around his bandaged waist. He could practically feel it, Obi-Wan’s breath on his neck and the beat of his heart, the heat of his skin. 

“I won’t.” Anakin said, a swell of emotion filling his entire body. 

“Well, good, you really mustn’t.” Silence filled the space in between the two of them, when Anakin realized what he had to do. Without a second thought, he reached over his hand and placed it on top of Obi-Wan’s fist, as though he was in no longer control of his own actions. 

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.” He said, half apologizing for the lashing out at him the night of his detention, and half apologizing for the sudden, uncalled for act of affection.

“It is I who should be apologizing.” Obi-Wan said, the tips of his thin fingers meeting Anakin’s, he was consciously, intentionally, _touching him_. Anakin had to remind himself to breathe. 

“I have to tell you something, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, suddenly hushed by Obi-Wan now rolling his thumb in circles around Anakin’s hand, a feeling he’d never thought he would get to experience. He’d concealed his feelings for Obi-Wan for so long, too long. He had one thousand things to say, and yet, couldn’t bring himself to show a single one to the light of the day. Anakin’s entire body ached at the thought of Obi-Wan finally knowing, _after all this time_.

“I know.” Obi-Wan said, looking up at the pale Slytherin, noticing a few new scratches donning his head and neck. Obi-Wan softly sunk the tips of his fingers around Anakin’s knuckles, taking his hand in his. 

The two both knew they had every pair of eyes at Hogwarts on them. Obi-Wan looked deeply at Anakin’s eyes, no longer attempting to push back any semblance of emotion. The quiet sounds of Hogwarts at night filled the room, the of creaking floors and the flickering of candles.

“What do we do?” Anakin said, tears bleeding through his words like a fresh cut. 

“We wait, I suppose.” Obi-Wan didn’t want to wait, though. He wanted take Anakin into his arms and never let him leave his sight again, nevertheless, fight magical, evil snakes.

“You’d wait for me?” Anakin said, thinking about Padme. Though the two had not spoken it quite some time, Anakin knew that he owed her a debt of gratitude. Obi-Wan was well aware of this, as well the position of putting he’d be putting Anakin in by pursuing a romantic relationship with a student. As he’d realized Anakin’s first year at Hogwarts, he’d do anything to protect him. 

“Till kingdom come.”

Obi-Wan thought about endless nights of the two of them laying on the ground of the Ravenclaw Common Room, of study sessions where Anakin would fall asleep and he would have to stop himself from simply _watching_ him. Of every nightmare where Obi-Wan thought he’d lost him, to a few days ago when he almost did. 

_Absolutely anything for you_ , he thought, gripping Anakin’s hand even tighter, wishing on every star in the sky that he’d never have to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you especially to the few folks who have stuck with me through this entire fic so far, your comments mean the absolute world to me.
> 
> I take fic/one shot/headcanon requests and will write you just about anything :) Thanks for reading!


	8. Ribs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin seeks comfort in Obi-Wan after having a hard conversation with Padme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration: Ribs - Lorde
> 
> Thank you especially to the few folks who have stuck with me through this entire fic so far, your comments mean the absolute world to me.

Padme Amidala was a very smart witch. She was well within the top of her class in Ravenclaw house and had started various organizations at Hogwarts. 

She’d met Anakin Skywalker her Fourth year, and despite the antagonizing of her friends, had liked him _immediately_. Since they’d made their relationship public after her Fifth year, the two had practically been inseparable. By all intents and purposes, she’d loved him in a way one would love a childhood friend. They’d grown up together.

“You can’t know how sorry I am.” Anakin said, his emotions stifling through his words as though he had a shoe on his throat. 

Padme shot him a weak smile and sat next to him at the head of the staircase near the Ravenclaw dormitories. The sound of her house slippers lightly echoed through the room as she moved closer to the dejected Slytherin.

“You’ve never been able to hide much from me, Ani.” She said with a quiet sigh, resting her head on Anakin’s shoulder. He brought his fingers to his lips before pressing them on his jaw, resting his head back on Padme.  
Anakin swallowed deeply, he knew how much he’d miss this, being near Padme. Knowing Padme would always be there for him. The pair sat in silence, innocently avoiding each other’s eyesight and listening to the whispered conversations of paintings far away. _This is quite sad isn’t it_ …commented the portrait of Shaak Ti, a former Hogwarts headmaster.

He _loved_ her, he’d never denied this, only that he couldn’t love her how she deserved. 

“Does Obi-Wan know?” Padme asked, her voice lightly cracking at the weight of her tears. Yes, she was a _very_ smart witch. 

Anakin’s heart sank at the thought of the Professor, wondering how long Padme had known about his feelings for him. He thought back to the night in the Hospital Ward, where Obi-Wan had taken his hand in his. No matter how many times he convinced himself that the memory was simply a fever dream, the thought of Obi-Wan pushed violently against it. 

“He has to.” Anakin said, nesting his chin into Padme’s soft, perfumed hair. He took another breath in, careful to savor the scent of her. “It’s all so,” he stopped in his sentence, reminding himself that he’d never have to hide from her, “ _scary_.” Obi-Wan had to know how he felt; Anakin wouldn’t make it if he didn’t.

“So scary.” Padme said, a pretty tear falling down her face. Anakin couldn’t stand to look at her, she was the only person in the world who looked beautiful even when they cried. “I don’t think I like growing up very much.”

Anakin felt a cloak of sadness fall over him listening to Padme, “I don’t either.”

 _I love you; I’ll love you forever_ , Anakin thought, but kept himself from saying.

“We’ll always be friends, Ani.” Padme said, quickly wiping small tears from her face like tiny shards of glass. She quietly slipped out from Anakin’s arm. It would be the last time.

“Always.”

-

“Good morning, Seventh years.” Obi-Wan said, clad in a tight, black coat as the students shuffled out into the courtyard. The air had been growing colder, it would only be a few weeks before Hogwarts would be covered in snow. He slipped his wand out of his coat pocket and began to twirl it around in his hand.

“Would anybody like to guess what unit we’ve moved to in class?” He said, eyebrows raised. Anakin rolled his eyes as every witch in the class lifted their hands.

“We’re practicing dueling, aren’t we?” Rey asked, moving up in front of the line the students had filed. Obi-Wan smiled brightly at her, Anakin could practically hear the shift in place of everybody in the class.

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan said, the bass of his voice forcing Anakin to stand upright so his knees wouldn’t buckle. Small clouds of breath followed his every word in the sharp coldness of December. “If everybody will find a partner, I’ll take a few volunteers to help me demonstrate.”

“Anakin will!” Poe loudly shouted; his grin wild like an animal. Anakin glared at the Triwizard champion, who had consistently been pressuring him to interact with Obi-Wan any chance he had since their night in detention. Poe spent quite a few hours skipping class to stay with Anakin in the medical ward during his stay, as well. He’d come armored with chocolate frogs and detail-by-detail explanations of Obi-Wan’s outfit that day.

“Very well,” Obi-Wan said, motioning his hand out in front of him.

Anakin felt the pressure of every eye in the classroom glued onto him, it made the cold morning air humid and hot against the back of his neck. He turned around to view Obi-Wan, his wand firmly gripped in his left hand. He locked eyes with Obi-Wan, who was now in the proper dueling position, when he felt a sharp pang at the memory of his Third year at Hogwarts.

 _“Why can’t you teach me? I know you’re learning how to duel.”_ He'd asked Obi-Wan insistently until he agreed to “show” him. Anakin could still remember the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hands at his neck, _“shoulders back,”_ he’d say, reaching down to touch Anakin’s hand, _“wand out like so,”_ to teach him how to properly stand. Anakin felt a wave of heat go through him when he assumed the proper stance, mirroring every movement Obi-Wan had engraved into him so many years ago. 

“Are you ready, Mister Skywalker?” Obi-Wan said, playful sarcasm leaking through his every word.

“Absolutely, Master Kenobi.” The eyes of every member of the class grew hotter, people were whispering now. Anakin smiled through his words, knowing good and well how much that term bothered Obi-Wan.

“ _Incendio!_ ” Anakin shouted, punching out bolts of fire from his wand at Obi-Wan’s feet, all of which were cleverly incinerated by a quick “ _reducto_ ” from Obi-Wan. He looked up at him, piercing blue eyes circling Anakin’s mind and making him dizzy. 

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Anakin shot back at Obi-Wan, who without even saying a word, casted a streak of blue light from his wand, creating a large, milky shield around him. The class cheered as the two brought their wands down and approached each other, “very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan growled quietly, “ _very_ good.” 

Anakin loudly sighed, he wanted Obi-Wan to touch him, or _kiss_ him or _something_. Anakin’s head burned at the very thought. Had it not been for the group of thirty or so students now all giggling and whispering about Obi-Wan, he would have done it right there.

Obi-Wan turned to the group of heavily breathing Seventh years, teeth peeking through a frankly ridiculous smile. Anakin couldn’t blame them for liking him, not really, as the mere sight of Obi-Wan was enough to set the entire castle on fire. 

“Brilliant, now, who would like to go next?” 

To no surprise, every hand was raised.

-

Anakin finished off the class by dueling Rey, who pried at his breakup with Padme the entire time, making him wish he’d never told Poe. His eyes wandered over to Obi-Wan and whoever he was dueling at the time, often for uneventful handshakes or pats on the back that made Anakin rage in jealousy. The bell rang and the pair brought their wands to their sides, the tips of Anakin’s fingers black with soot from Rey blocking his fire spell.

“If you ever need to talk, I’m free.” She said, obviously struggling with the act of getting her emotions across about as much as Anakin did. 

“Thank you,” Anakin said, genuinely, as Poe rested his arm around Anakin’s shoulder, “now I know that was not just friendly Wizarding banter up there-“ Rey violently hushed him.

“I wouldn’t mess with her,” Anakin said, pointing to the frayed edges of Slytherin sweater. Poe rolled his eyes, “you’re getting too damn big for that thing anyway.”

“We’ll”- Rey’s eyes grew huge as she pulled at Poe’s shirt “We’ll catch up later, Anakin.” Poe slumped to her side, “we absolutely will catch up later.” Poe’s eyes blew up in size, as he shot a sly look at Anakin, “great class, Professor Kenobi.”

“Thank you very much, Mister Dameron.” Obi-Wan said, his accent lightly tapping on the ears of the Seventh Years. Rey tugged at the base of Poe’s hair and pulled him away, guiding him towards the castle. Poe shot up a scarred, dirty hand in the air and waved at Anakin, sending him a message that hardly needed to be transcribed.

_Get it, Skyguy._

Obi-Wan stepped a few inches closer to Anakin, the smell of cologne and sweat echoing off of his tight sweater. “You know I actually have other classes, Professor.” Anakin said slyly, slinking one nervous hand in the pocket of his robes. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, and pushed a few fingers through his now, very messy hair. It made Anakin’s throat tighten just watching him exist, like he had the flu or was vexed to live a life of infinite tension.

“My greatest apologies, Anakin. I suppose you won’t be joining me tonight with all of your strenuous coursework.” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head and placing a few fingers on his chin. 

Anakin’s heart jumped at the statement, _him_ , alone with _Obi-Wan_. “What do you mean by that, Professor?” Anakin said, nervousness slipping through his sarcastic, unbothered demeanor. Obi-Wan began to gather his coat, briefcase and textbooks. Anakin had to stop himself from reaching out his hands to carry the young professor’s books for him. 

“I can make it work, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, his nervous energy now growing frantic and likely embarrassing. 

“Excellent, drop by when you can, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said coolly, as though he’d not had Anakin at his beck and call. Obi-Wan smiled at him, cutting through any fragment of tension like he was in control of the entire situation. Which, to Anakin, he absolutely was.

-

“I’ve received some unsettling news about the next task,” Obi-Wan said, opening the door for Anakin. He’d changed from his Professor’s gear to jeans and a tight, long-sleeved shirt clinging to every nook of his body. It was now nearly curfew, as Anakin had a particularly long night of finishing assignments and questioning from Finn and Poe.

“Is that all you called me here for?” Anakin said, pushing all thoughts of the Triwizard tournament away from his mind. Admittedly, he hadn’t given the competition much thought in the past few days, every inkling in his mind was reserved for Padme and Obi-Wan. His eyes circled to the floating candles in Obi-Wan’s office, only half of them still lit in the lateness of the night.

“No, I’m just simply concerned.” Obi-Wan said, curiously eying Anakin now. “Are you alright, Anakin?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Anakin said. _I broke up with Padme and all you want to do is talk_ , Anakin thought, digging his nails into his palm.

“There’s no sense in lying to me, you know.” Obi-Wan said, his soft gaze making its way back to Anakin, who had now taken a seat on his desk.

Anakin rolled his eyes and pushed his knuckles against the temples of his head, kicking his feet out in front of him like an upset child. “What were you going to say about the Tournament, Professor?” 

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side, eyes now glued onto Anakin as he slowly approached his desk. He placed the book he’d been holding on the only available chair. 

“Why don’t I feel like I have your full attention?” He asked, pressing the tips of his fingers into the desk Anakin was sitting on, firmly pinning him into it. Anakin took a deep breath in and kicked out his right foot, hooking it behind Obi-Wan’s jeans and pulling him in closer to his body.

“I am having a very difficult time paying attention, Professor.” Anakin said stubbornly, Obi-Wan now towering over him. 

For the majority of the day, all he’d been able to feel was sadness over Padme, except for when he was around Obi-Wan. He lightly pushed his forehead into the crook of Obi-Wan’s shoulder, careful to conceal the best he’d felt in days. The young professor pressed his fingers together and wrapped his hand around Anakin’s clenched fist. A candle went out with a quick whistling sound.

“You seemed to pay very close attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning.” Obi-Wan said, his warm breath on Anakin’s skin and making his entire body hurt. 

“I was just being a good student-“ Anakin started, before Obi-Wan moved his hand up to Anakin’s shoulder, gingerly curling his fingers around the fabric of his shirt. Anakin found himself speechless simply existing in the same room as Obi-Wan, nonetheless inches away from him. Anakin reached out his pointer finger and hooked it underneath the cuff of Obi-Wan’s sleeve, lightly pulling him closer. He feared that if he’d be forced to go any faster, he might faint.

Obi-Wan softly ran his fingers up Anakin’s jaw, a silent, non-verbal command. Anakin raised his head out of the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck at an embarrassingly fast pace. _This is it_ , he thought, every bone in his body aching to somehow be closer to the young professor, _this is it_. 

A loud knock at the door rang through the office.

“Professor Obi-Wan Kenobi-“ Anakin jerked away from Obi-Wan at the all-too-familiar voice of the Divination Professor, Satine Kryze, at the door. “May I come in?”

Obi-Wan spun around, eyes huge and serious as Anakin ducked behind the desk, doing his best to fit inside of it in a way that he wouldn’t be caught. 

“Yes, one moment,” Obi-Wan called out, clearing his throat and approaching the door.

“I wouldn’t expect you to be up at such a time, Professor.” She said, her voice breathy and quiet. _What did she know about Obi-Wan’s sleeping habits anyway?_ , Anakin thought. “Reading, I suppose,” she continued, soft clicking of her shoes tapping on Obi-Wan’s floor.

“Though, your candles are burning out, perhaps this is not the best time.” She said, in the same tone that she used when evaluating Poe’s tea-leaf readings. 

“They do seem to have a mind of their own.” Obi-Wan said, his voice still causing Anakin’s stomach to stir.

“I will return, Professor Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Anakin thought about kicking the desk and throwing his hands in the air. Maybe if he revealed his position, Professor Kryze would leave Obi-Wan alone. _Why did she say his full name like that anyway?_ The tips of his fingers burned with jealousy like he’d stuck them inside a fireplace. 

“I see many things in your future, young professor.” She said, her voice hushed in proximity to Anakin. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the old creek of the office door. He heard feint mumbling from Obi-Wan to the Professor before quietly shutting the door. 

Anakin slowly raised his head from behind Obi-Wan’s desk, he barely made it to where he'd been sitting previously before the young professor turned around, eyes filled to the brim with suppressed tears of laughter. His fist clung to the fabric of his shirt to keep himself from laughing out, pressure building up in his chest as he kept loud, racking giggles from escaping. Every remnant of hardness and anger Anakin had built underneath the desk melted off of him at the sight of Obi-Wan.

“I-“ Obi-Wan whispered, placing the palm of his hand over his mouth “haven’t seen you move so fast since Kylo Ren did my room inspection.” Anakin blushed as he looked at Obi-Wan. It made every part of his body warm like he was standing in front of a fire to see Obi-Wan like this, so emotional, so vulnerable, so _happy_.

Anakin thought perhaps he’d hook his knees around his waist and never let him leave as Obi-Wan approached closer to the desk. He was still dizzy and intoxicated by how close Obi-Wan had been to kissing him. He could barely keep himself upright as he sat up in his spot.

“I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, Professor.” Anakin said, his voice nervously shaking under his breath as Obi-Wan continued to get closer and _closer_ to him. Anakin’s stomach lurched at the thought of Satine, how she acted around Obi-Wan like she knew him better than him.

“It would hardly be the last time, and would you please stop calling me that?” Obi-Wan said, looking away from Anakin and down at his palms that were now placed back on his desk. 

“It seems to be what everybody calls you-“ Anakin stopped as Obi-Wan placed his long, thin fingers in his hair, running them through it in a way that made him forget how to breathe. All thoughts of the Divination Professor and her mysterious visit began to vanish from Anakin’s mind at the soft touch of his best friend.

Obi-Wan clasped his hands together around the neck of a now very paralyzed Anakin, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs. Anakin opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , when Obi-Wan kissed him. 

Anakin took a sharp breath in at the sudden, mind-numbing act of affection. For whatever reason, kissing Obi-Wan made him feel like he’d never kissed anybody in the world before. 

“Don’t worry about it, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, sensing tension in Anakin and lightly kissing him in between every other word.

Anakin frantically moved his hands and desperately tugged at Obi-Wan’s shoulders as he, with what felt like expert dexterity, deepened the kiss. Anakin couldn’t help but take another shallow breath of air in at the intense closeness of him. _You’re the only friend I need_ , he thought, fingertips practically bouncing against the fabric of Obi-Wan’s clothes as his hands continued to shake. He couldn’t quite fathom that he within was arm’s reach of everything he’d ever wanted, _kissing_ everything he’d ever wanted.

Anakin closed his eyes as he let every part of his body sink into the depth of the kiss. He uncurled his fingers and gently rested his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, close enough to feel the strong rise and fall of his chest. It took every effort on Anakin’s part to not dig his fingernails into Obi-Wan, so he’d never have to stop.

Obi-Wan slowly pulled away from Anakin, the imprint of his lips as strong as Firewhisky. “Will you pay attention now?”

He had Anakin enchanted, like a flute that could only say his name or a goblet that could only be filled by his closeness.

“Absolutely, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com (I take requests!)
> 
> Pls comment! :) Thank you for reading!


	9. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Yule Ball approaches, Anakin meets his date, and unfortunately, Obi-Wan's as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton stans, we win this one. Song inspo, Helpless-Hamilton the Musical.
> 
> Thank you especially to the few folks who have stuck with me through this entire fic so far, your comments mean the absolute world to me. :)

There wasn’t a single bone in Anakin Skywalker’s body that wanted to go to the Yule Ball. At least, that’s what he wanted people to believe.

“You must, Anakin. At the very least, it’s a tradition for every champion of the Triwizard Tournament to go.” Rey said, hands on her hips as she paced the Gryffindor common room. 

“Yeah, if I have to go, you definitely have to go.” Said Poe, splayed out on the floor, tossing a pen in the air and catching it in alternating hands. 

It wasn’t so much of the idea of the Yule Ball that bothered Anakin. In fact, if it were any other scenario, he thought he might enjoy such an event. He liked being in clothes that weren’t his school uniform and enjoyed any opportunity where he could listen to music. It was the prospect of bringing a date, however, that bothered him most. His heart was currently being held in the ink-stained hands of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, who he most definitely could not bring to the dance. 

“Don’t even think about bringing Rey. I already asked.” Shouted Finn from the desk, who was diligently working on class papers. Anakin threw his hands up in the air and Poe jerked up from his seat. 

“What the Hell are we supposed to do?” Poe demanded, crossing his legs in front of him and rolling up straight. While Anakin wouldn’t verbally express his disappointment, he agreed with Poe. He liked Rey, she was smart, a ferocious Keeper on the Quidditch team, and would have put up with his emotional turmoil at the ball.

“Can we all go with you?” Anakin asked if only to bother the haughty Gryffindor. 

Rey scoffed and rolled her eyes at Anakin. “You absolutely cannot, I have pride.” She lightly kicked at Poe’s knee, “unlike you. Do you seriously not know any other women in this entire castle?”

Finn loudly laughed, so hard that he had to put down his quill.

“What about your roommates, Rey? Would they consider taking two lovelorn Triwizard champions?” Poe asked, clasping his hands together like he was reciting a prayer. Rey softly smiled at herself pressing her small palm to her lips at the sudden mention of her roommates.

“Maybe one. I suppose I can ask.” She whispered.

Poe quickly jumped up from where he was sitting and pulled Rey into a friendly squeeze. “If you don’t watch out Niima I’m ditching Finn for you.”

“You’re absolutely impossible.” Rey laughed, gathering her possessions for the night. Without another word she quickly ran off to her room to study, careful to consider the small grin creeping up her face.

-

Anakin frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror, doing his best to comb back his long, unruly hair.

“I don’t understand how you did this.” He said, turning to Poe, who had been ready for quite some time. The young Gryffindor was clad in tight grey dress robes with a tight, orange shirt underneath. Around his neck circled a disheveled white bowtie. His hair was lightly gelled back, a few tufts of black curls peeking though, making him look just formal enough. Anakin imagined that this is probably how Princes looked.

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Finn said, marching into the room and going straight for Poe’s tie. Anakin, once again, winced in place, annoyed at how good the two looked. 

He’d snuck into their dormitory to get ready, as he could imagine nothing worse than the tormenting from his Slytherin roommates about the state of his dress robes. They, for whatever reason, didn’t look the same as everyone else’s. His dress robes were short and too tight, as Anakin had grown significantly since his Fourth year when he purchased them. Not only that, but they were also jet black, with a dark button up to match. He felt he looked less like a Triwizard champion and more like a Dementor. However, to Poe, Finn, and anybody who saw him, he was nothing short of breathtaking.

Poe caught himself taking a deep breath in at the sight of Anakin when he turned around to face him, “why are you looking at me like that?” Anakin demanded, his cheeks growing hot at the attention from his friends.

“You look amazing.” Poe slipped out, Finn nodding in agreement. 

“Obi-Wan doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Finn said, placing a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. He hadn’t even begun to think about telling his friends about what happened in Obi-Wan’s office a couple of nights back. Anakin thought perhaps if he kept it to himself, he could live in the very memory of it forever. 

“Actually,” Anakin said, immediately regretting opening his mouth as the two Gryffindors looked back at him, “Obi-Wan and I, we sort of,” Poe’s eyes grew huge as he jumped up in his spot, landing next to Anakin, gripping his shoulders and shaking him in place.

“Did you guys, _you know_ ,” Poe asked, arching an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side. Finn abruptly smacked Poe in the middle of his back, stopping his sentence, causing Anakin’s face, ears, and neck to all go red. It hadn’t yet occurred to him that there were quite a few more things to do with Obi-Wan other than kiss him.

“Not everybody moves at quite the speed as you, Quidditch captain,” Finn said, looking at Poe, eyes threatening to punch him again. 

Poe shook his head, placing one arm on Anakin and the other around Finn, “welcome to Boyfriend club, Anakin Skywalker. I am incredibly offended that you waited to tell me until now.”

Finn rolled his eyes and strongly took Poe’s hand, leading him to the door. Anakin swallowed deeply, taking one last glance at himself in the mirror before joining them. The group of tall, awkward Seventh years walked together to the common room, none of their dress robes quite fitting them correctly, where they were already late to meet Rey. 

“Took you long enough.” She said, firmly stopping the heartbeat of every person in the room. Her hair, instead of a typical fashion of being tied up, was brushed out and rolled down her back in soft waves. She wore a long, sand-colored dress that melted off of her muscular shoulders. 

“We shouldn’t even be allowed to stand next to you,” Finn commented, looking at Poe and shaking his head. Anakin smiled at her, he agreed.

“Oh, get off it,” Rey said, rolling her eyes and turning around to face her roommates. “Ahsoka, this is Anakin.” She motioned to a small, tan girl with dark blue hair and a dress to match. Anakin had recognized her from a couple of his classes as the girl who was always talking before the professor had called on her. 

Anakin reached out his hand to Ahsoka, who, with a surprisingly strong grip, immediately shook it “I hear they call you Skyguy?” She said, somehow easing the nerves right out of Anakin. “Don’t you not like quidditch though?” Ahsoka followed, placing a hand on her hip.

“If that’s what you want to call me, you can.” 

Ahsoka grinned, “that’s good to know.”

Anakin smiled down at Ahsoka as the group of Gryffindors began to shuffle out of the room. Poe clung to Rey and Finn like a well-trained hound, Ahsoka began to pester Anakin all about the Triwizard tournament, and all the while the young Slytherin’s problems began to rapidly sink away. Anakin couldn’t help but wonder to himself, how he’d managed to find so many people who didn’t hate him, as they all walked together to the Yule Ball. 

-

What was once the Great Hall now looked like an entirely different universe, Anakin thought. Glittering icicles beamed off of the ceiling, and a light, occasional snowfall descended from various enchantments. A group of some of the Hogwarts ghosts were playing in a small band but had enchanted the few instruments to sound like an entire orchestra. Anakin’s eyes glazed the room for Obi-Wan but found that he had not yet arrived. 

“Are you looking for Professor Kenobi?” Ahsoka said, causing Anakin to shoot back in shock. “Does everybody know about that?” He huffed, practically stomping his foot on the ground.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, “Uh, of course. It’s kind of obvious.”

Anakin thought to himself perhaps it would be better for him to storm off in a rage and never return to the Yule Ball. However, he owed it to the young Gryffindor to stay. He hadn’t spent much time around Ahsoka, but like Poe, Rey, and Finn- he found he did not have to try but be anybody but himself around her.

Anakin held out his hand to Ahsoka, having to bend down at nearly a ninety-degree angle to match her height. 

“Would you like to dance?” He said, a half sarcastic, half genuine smile spreading across his face like a small crown. Ahsoka placed her small fingers in Anakin’s hand, “If you think you can keep up with me.” She shot back.

Anakin and Ahsoka quickly realized they were not the greatest of dancers. Anakin found himself far too tall for her, and Ahsoka occasionally stepped on his foot in light of being consistently distracted by various magical items.

“You’re not a very good dancer” Ahsoka joked, Anakin now clinging tightly to the fabric of her dress to keep himself in step. 

“That’s a lot coming from you, _Snips_ ,” Ahsoka abruptly pushed on Anakin’s chest and playfully folded her arms across her chest. Anakin shot back, a huge grin circling his face at the obviously upset Gryffindor. He began to approach her and ask her to continue to dance with him when his heart stopped at who could only be Obi-Wan stepping into the room.

Anakin thought, perhaps, he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He wore a long, brown set of dress robes that slid into every corner of his body like it had been made for him. Underneath, he wore a tight, tan vest, and white shirt, showing off how toned the professor’s body was. 

However, it was not so much the surreal sight of the professor that shocked Anakin into complete silence, but rather, the tall, blonde, beautiful, Satine Kryze at his arm.  
The professor had her long, painted fingernails softly draped around Obi-Wan’s hands, and was whispering something in his ear. Obi-Wan looked at her and laughed, unaware of Anakin looking at him from across the room.

“Uh oh,” Ahsoka said, looking in the same direction as Anakin.

“I’m sorry Snips, I just realized,” he started, his chest hurting and throbbing in his ribs like a caged bird. He didn’t know how he ever thought he could be in the same room as Obi-Wan with a date that wasn’t him, now only knowing that he absolutely could not.

“It’s okay, you know,” Ahsoka said, placing her hand on Anakin’s shoulder, big grey eyes sympathetic and understanding. Anakin placed his hand on Ahsoka’s, taking one final look at a grinning, happy Obi-Wan, “thank you Ahsoka.”

-

Anakin didn’t know quite where to go, only that he needed to be far away from the Great Hall. Seeing Obi-Wan with Satine, so close, so happy, made him sick to his stomach. No matter how he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t escape from the images and thoughts that were now burned into his mind forever. He stormed down the corridor, ears ringing and a flow of tears now streaming down his face. _How did he ever think he’d be good enough for Obi-Wan?_

The Slytherin stopped in place at the head of the Gryffindor staircase, where he’d waited for Poe and Finn many times before. He sunk to the ground, his robes circling him like a small shadow. Knowing that every student would likely be at the Yule Ball, he decided that it would be as good a place as any to stop. He felt a burning pool of anger brewing at the base of his chest as he buried his head in his hands, so much so he thought he might scream out when he heard a clanking of footsteps stepping up the staircase.

“Skyguy,” said Poe, hand on his waist and bending down, doing his best to catch his breath, “can’t you slow down for a second? We can’t all be eight feet tall.”

“How did you find me?” Anakin said through repressed anger. Poe quietly walked up the staircase and sat next to Anakin, closer than he ever had. 

“I chased after you.” 

Anakin peeled his hands away from his face to look at Poe. “Why would you do that?” Anakin said, his tear-stained eyes burning in attention from the dark-haired Gryffindor.

“I care about you.” Poe said, now fidgeting with his fingers, “and, well, I know it can be tough sometimes.” Poe said, voice quiet and reserved. Anakin knew he was talking about Finn, after all, he was the only subject of conversation that made Poe so visibly reverent.

“How did you know, with Finn?” Anakin asked, avoiding Poe’s eyesight. He realized he’d never asked before. “He was my roommate, and I was so young but the first time I saw him, I just knew.” Poe smiled at Anakin, who couldn’t believe he was being so honest and forward, “I knew, _that boy is mine_.”

Anakin smiled at Poe, who was now the one avoiding eye contact with him. After all the time he’d spent with Poe, he’d somehow never felt so close to him.

“Do you think he likes her more than me?” Anakin said, abundantly aware of how much like a child he sounded. He resumed the position Poe was now in by stretching his legs out and placing his arms behind him. The shock of seeing Obi-Wan with Satine seemed to wear off the longer he was around the young Gryffindor. 

“Are you kidding me?” Poe said, looking at Anakin, his voice somewhat joking but quiet in the air of seriousness. “Obi-Wan looked at her like she was his mother, he looks at you like you’re his next meal.” 

Anakin immediately let out a wet laugh, remnants of tears still echoing in his body, “I think you’re lying to me.” He shot back, now quietly laughing, when suddenly, the pair stopped. A small, silvery-blue figure began to approach them, Anakin’s heart stopped at the sight of the Patronus, it was undoubtedly a fox.

“It’s Obi-Wan.” He said quietly, wet tears still stinging at the back of his throat. He rose from his seat slowly as not to interrupt the figure. 

“How do you know?” Poe said.

Anakin slowly pulled his wand from his pocket and quickly whispered _expecto patronum_ , revealing his Patronus: a large, grey wolf that immediately started to sniff and jump around the fox. Anakin’s heart tugged at the sight of them interacting.

“When I met Obi-Wan I wanted to have the same Patronus as him so badly, I used to focus on the image of it every time I casted mine. I would know it anywhere.” The small, ghost-like fox looked up at Anakin, his head turned to the side and pale eyes burning into him. 

“I think he wants you to follow him,” Poe said, marveling at the display of magic. Anakin began to step down the stairs, pushing his robes out and dusting them off. He made it to the middle of the staircase before turning around to face the young Gryffindor. “Thank you, Poe.”

“It’s no problem, Anakin. Plus, you know, Boyfriend club.” Poe said, standing up too at the top of the staircase. Every painting in the room was watching them, one of Kit Fisto, a former Potions master, even rolled his eyes at the two.

Anakin quickly followed the fox down the corridor, taking various twists and turns until Anakin began to question whether or not Obi-Wan had sent it. Perhaps someone was playing a joke on him. Regardless, the fox stopped in an empty hall, no offices or classrooms to be seen when it looked up at Anakin.

“This is where you took me?” Anakin asked the Patronus, who immediately skirted away from him and jumped back into the wand of Obi-Wan as he emerged from behind a large pillar.

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan, “I saw you leave.”

“Well, you seemed quite preoccupied, Professor. Why did you bring me here?” Anakin asked, folding his arms across his chest as he did his best to remain cold with Obi-Wan. Even being around him for a few seconds was enough to melt him completely.

“If you’ll come with me,” Obi-Wan motioned to a ragged looking door that Anakin didn’t remember seeing when he observed the room, “you have to trust me.”

Anakin, now subdued by simply being around Obi-Wan walked through the door to reveal a room he’d seen previously but had never before been in. Anakin’s heart surged at the sight of the site of it. The icicles bouncing off the ceiling, a sliver of orchestral music, an empty dance floor. It was the Yule Ball.

“What is this, Obi-Wan?” Anakin said, turning to the young professor.

“The Room of Requirement, it only appears for a wizard in dire need of something. It shows exactly what the witch or wizard needs, despite what they might already think.”

Anakin marveled at the sight of it, as it was absolutely identical to the Yule Ball inside the Great Hall. It smelled like holly and cinnamon, there were giant tables with large, ornate fountains in and a large, decorated Christmas tree at the head of the room. His thoughts quickly turned to back Obi-Wan, however, at the word “ _need_ ”.

“Why did you need this?” Anakin said, voice choking up, “it seemed a lot like you had everything you needed in the Great Hall.”

Obi-Wan stepped closer to Anakin, hands folded behind his back, “the one thing I needed bolted out of the ballroom the moment I stepped in.” The young professor slowly bowed and held out a firm, thin hand out to Anakin.

“May I?” 

Anakin lifted his eyebrows at Obi-Wan as the music began to slow. The cellos adopted a lower, quiet role, while the violins joined in a high-pitched, romantic sound. Anakin reached out his fingers and wearily placed them in Obi-Wan’s palm. Taking Obi-Wan’s hand and feeling his lean, strong arm slink around his waist felt like jumping off a cliff or stepping into a raging fire. Anakin rested his hand on his shoulder, soft fabric of his dress robes soft under his fingers.

“I’m sure I’m not nearly the dancer you must be, Professor,” Anakin said, still shying away from Obi-Wan, his mind still back in the ballroom with Satine. 

Obi-Wan, knowing him like the back of his hand, could sense Anakin’s anxiety as though it was his own. The pair could not help but be as connected as any pair of humans could be. Obi-Wan slid his fingers up to meet Anakin’s soft hair.

 _Come here_ , he thought to himself. Anakin, without ever hearing him, obeyed. The young champion rested his forehead on him, his breath shaky and nervous. Anakin softly stepped his right foot back as Obi-Wan placed his left foot forward, as following his lead was the easiest way he knew how to exist.

“I have no interest in Satine Kryze,” Obi-Wan said, looking directly at Anakin as he combed his fingers through his hair, pressing another small step forward with his right foot. “In fact, I’m quite preoccupied with a certain Triwizard champion at the moment.” Anakin smiled, letting Obi-Wan’s chest move in closer to his as they fell into a swaying-type waltz.

“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that, I have my eyes set on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Anakin said, embarrassed in the light of his neediness. He squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder and palm as the young professor moved his fingers through his hair. “Promise me?”

“Anakin you see, I-” he stopped himself from saying it, _I love you, I’ve loved you since I was seventeen_. “You’re all I want, I promise.”

Obi-Wan lightly grabbed onto Anakin’s robes and pulled him down, planting his promise so deeply that Anakin would never forget it. He was kissing him again, making Anakin feel warm and dizzy and ripping a huge grin out of his body. Anakin’s teeth knocked against Obi-Wan’s as he smiled into the kiss, everything about it felt different than the first time he’d kissed him. Instead of shock and nervousness, Obi-Wan kissed Anakin like he’d been doing it his entire life. 

“Like your, you know, boyfriend?” Anakin asked, breath heavy from pulling away from the kiss. Anakin pressed a blinding smile against Obi-Wan’s neck as he moved in closer to the professor now that he’d gotten a grip on their dance. His face swelled with heat as he mentally punched himself for letting Poe put that word in his mind. _Boyfriend? Was he twelve?_

“Yes,” The music swelled in Obi-Wan’s now very red ears as he pulled Anakin tighter to him thinking perhaps he was having a stroke, “quite like my boyfriend.” 

Obi-Wan forgot altogether that he was the one leading at the suddenness of the question. Everything about Anakin was made somehow more obvious to him as they danced: his height, his strength, his closeness. The young professor, trained in awareness of magic, felt completely blind to anything in the room except the parts of Anakin he got to touch: The back and forth of his shoes, the robes at his strong waist. 

“I’ve never-” Anakin stopped, as Obi-Wan stepped forward in the slow beat with the music, Anakin followed. He couldn’t stop smiling, every moment felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. “I’ve never felt so,” he couldn’t think of what to say, looking down at Obi-Wan like he was the only thing he’d ever wanted in his entire life. 

The young professor pulled Anakin down to his height once more, placing a soft, warm kiss on his lips. He reached his hands up and cupped the sides of Anakin’s face like he would escape if he ever let go. Anakin, who appeared to have finally gotten the grip of kissing, pushed his body in closer to Obi-Wan’s moving into him with his every touch, catching Obi-Wan and rendering him useless every time he tried to breathe. 

“ _Helpless_ ,” Obi-Wan smiled, kissing every syllable into the tall Slytherin, briefly remembering how beautiful Anakin looked walking into the Great Hall. Obi-Wan wasn’t used to feeling like this, dancing with Anakin and drowning in him, his love for him out of control like a bonfire. He stretched out his hand, reaching it above Anakin, who quietly laughed, and slowly turned underneath it. 

Obi-Wan could place thought exactly, like he’d studied the feeling a thousand times, it rested on the lips he’d just used to kiss his _boyfriend_. 

_I’ve never felt so helpless._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com (I take requests!)
> 
> Please comment, they mean the absolute world to me! I worked pretty hard on this chapter and I hope you liked it :) Thank you for reading!


	10. Merry Christmas Darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Christmas approaches, Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship begins to heat up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OBLIGATORY HARRY POTTER CHRISTMAS CHAPTER TAKES A VERY ADULT TURN
> 
> thank you for waiting a little longer for this chapter :) I hope you like it.

By all intents and purposes, Anakin might as well should have dropped out of his Divinations class by the time Winter exams came around. 

“I hope you’re aware that you’re affecting my education,” Anakin said after being promptly shoved against Obi-Wan’s desk, the young Professor already kissing and licking at his neck. Anakin felt a shockwave run through his body as he pulled his knees up and wrapped his feet around Obi-Wan’s hips, straddling him from where he was standing. The two had gotten in the habit of meeting during Anakin’s Divination class, as it was one of the only times Obi-Wan was free. 

Obi-Wan swiftly ran his fingers through Anakin’s hair, gripping it tight and pushing a hard kiss onto Anakin’s already very tender mouth. The young Slytherin loudly planted his hand down on the desk and scratched at the wood, he simply _relished_ in Obi-Wan’s free time.

“I wasn’t aware you were so committed to your studies, should I let you go then?” Obi-Wan asked, his words vibrating against Anakin’s bones as he ran his hands up his chest, playfully tugging at his sweater.

“No, I mean,” Anakin stuttered, his unstoppable _wanting_ for Obi-Wan clouding his brain, “please continue.” Obi-Wan tugged at Anakin’s shirt again, pulling Anakin’s lips just close enough to his that they were just barely touching. He ran a firm hand up Anakin’s thigh, the young Slytherin hissed, a wave of heat running through his body and straight down to his pants.

Just as Anakin pried open his lips, the loud ringing of an enchanted Grandfather clock rang through the room. Obi-Wan pressed a quick, toothy kiss into Anakin, giving his hair one last tug as he pulled away. Anakin folded his legs even tighter around the professor, “don’t do this,” but before he could finish his sentence, Obi-Wan had stepped back from him. The clock was enchanted to signal five minutes before the next round of classes starts.

“We can do so much in five minutes,” Anakin whined, digging his fingers deeper into the wood of Obi-Wan’s desk, “come back to me or your ungraded papers will get it.” 

Obi-Wan smiled and stepped in front of him, Anakin rested his arms over Obi-Wan’s shoulders, clasping his fingers together at the base of his strong back. Obi-Wan leaned over and kissed him, the feeling of his tongue causing Anakin to writhe in pain, he wanted him so badly it _hurt_.

“Time to go, Anakin.”

-

“Are you sure you have to go?” Anakin asked, laying down on the Gryffindor Common Room floor. It was the day after courses had ended and there were only a few students left, including him, who would be staying over the holiday. Poe tilted his head to the side, resting his body on the ground to face him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, flecks of red and orange from the fireplace reflecting in his shiny black hair. “This is my chance, you know.” He said, strong voice fading to a whisper in the lateness of the night. Poe was going home with Finn to meet his family for the first time, Anakin knew how much it meant to him.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Poe asked, his eyes sleepy and red after days of cramming for exams. 

Anakin smiled at the Gryffindor, “I’m always okay.”

Poe rolled his eyes, lightly pushed Anakin with his fist, and rolled up to a stand. Poe moved over to the desk, where a small, rectangular box had been placed, and handed it to Anakin, “don’t open until Christmas, and I _will_ know if you do.” Anakin felt his face quickly growing red and shoved his hand into his pocket, where he’d been keeping Poe’s gift. It was poorly wrapped and significantly smaller than Poe’s gift for him. Poe quickly took the gift and wrapped his right arm around Anakin’s neck and chest. Poe was a _hugger_ but had spared Anakin of it in fear of making him uncomfortable.

“Merry Christmas, Skyguy,” Poe said as Anakin loosely, embarrassingly wrapped his arm around Poe in an act of affection that made him seem like he’d never had a friend before in his life. Standing in the common room with Poe without an ounce of animosity or tension between them, Anakin realized that perhaps, he’d just never had a friend like _him_ before.

-

Obi-Wan had always liked Christmas. However, something about this year felt _different_. Looking at Anakin, light flakes of snow peeking through his curly hair, it wasn’t very hard to place what was so different. The smell of caramel and butterbeer filled him with joy as the pair ventured out into Hogsmeade, finally away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Anakin said, looking over at Obi-Wan, who had been staring at him for some time now. “Because I want to,” Obi-Wan replied, Anakin’s face lighting up, “It’s Christmas, I’m allowed to look at you.”

Anakin smiled back at him, wishing that he could take the young professor’s hand. Most Hogwarts students were gone at home for the holidays, and Obi-Wan had been less than attentive. They’d gotten the closest they’d ever been a few days ago in Obi-Wan’s office, but since the interaction, Anakin couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been _ignoring_ him.

“You could do more than look, you know,” Anakin replied, thoughts back to Obi-Wan kicking him out of his office flooding his brain. Obi-Wan stepped in front of him, his arms folded across his chest, “if you have something to say, feel free.”

Anakin rolled his neck before he faced Obi-Wan, growing annoyed, and stressed at the thought of Obi-Wan not wanting him. 

“Nothing, Obi-Wan, really,” Anakin replied, shoving his hands into his robe pockets and trudging through the snow until he was in front of Obi-Wan. Quietly, the young professor caught up with Anakin and continued to walk with him. An awful, quick silence filled the space between the two as they spent the rest of the day in painful small talk, leaving Obi-Wan to wonder to himself, just exactly what he’d done wrong.

-

Memories of the awkward encounter at Hogsmeade filled Anakin’s mind as he stood outside of Obi-Wan’s office, presents in hand for the young professor. He regretted what he’d said to him the moment he’d said it and had been rehearsing his apology the entire afternoon. He never intended to be harsh with Obi-Wan, but wanted him so desperately that sometimes he didn’t quite know how to hold in his emotions.

“I understand that sometimes communication can fail me, I’m not a man without faults,” Obi-Wan said, standing out in the middle of his office after he flung the door open for Anakin. He’d changed the entire space, what was once dusty, hardwood floors as now a navy-blue carpet, and what was once a dingy stack of wood was now a roaring fireplace. Anakin walked further into his office, his heart beginning to beat heavily in his chest, it was the Ravenclaw Common Room.

“I just thought, we’d had many Christmases in here before,” Obi-Wan said, awkwardly rushing towards Anakin, his eagerness obvious. 

They’d _certainly_ had many Christmases together. Anakin was one of the only Hogwarts students who’d stayed behind his first year, and Obi-Wan had found him eating alone in the library on Christmas morning. He invited him to the Ravenclaw Common Room, where Anakin watched him open his presents, and to his surprise, opened one from Obi-Wan. It was a small sphere that he’d enchanted to recite various magical facts to Anakin when he rubbed it. He was fifteen and Anakin thirteen, it was the first Christmas gift he’d ever received.

“This is for you,” Obi-Wan said, taking a small box out of his hands and sitting down in front of the fireplace. Anakin slipped down next to him as they’d done so many times before, as Obi-Wan handed him the item. Anakin slowly opened it, his chest filling to the brim and causing his breath to shake. Obi-Wan always gave the best Christmas presents.

“It’s enchanted,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin picked up a small, black ring from the box, “if you need me, for anything at all, just knead at it and, well, I’ll know.” Obi-Wan pulled a matching ring from underneath his shirt on a small, practically invisible chain. 

“I know it’s not much,” Obi-Wan said, Anakin moving quickly towards him, “It’s everything,” Anakin interrupting, his heart loudly beating in his chest, _you’re everything_ , he thought, looking at Obi-Wan.

“Thank you,” Anakin said, moving closer to the young professor, who was now laying down next to him, his head propped up on his elbow. Anakin looked around, the corner of Obi-Wan’s desk peeking behind the large Christmas tree. Anakin immediately thought back to being pressed on it, and Obi-Wan’s hands at his robes. Anakin looked down at the small, black ring and began to rub it, thinking how mean he’d been to Obi-Wan in Hogsmeade. There was never a time where Anakin _didn’t_ need him.

“Can I help you?” Obi-Wan asked, the ring around his neck slowly starting to lightly glow, Obi-Wan sat up, his green eyes burning into Anakin. “It’s Christmas, I’m allowed to need you,” Anakin replied, his voice turning to a whisper as Obi-Wan slowly moved on top of him, slipping his finger over his jaw.

Anakin took a sharp tug of air in at just the feeling of Obi-Wan’s skin against his. “So you need me?” Obi-Wan asked, softly pressing his lips against Anakin’s neck, who was now breathing very heavily at the feeling of Obi-Wan on top of him. Anakin moved his fingers up to Obi-Wan’s head, threading his fingers through his long hair. 

“I need you,” Anakin said into Obi-Wan’s mouth, “please.”

Obi-Wan placed a hard kiss on Anakin’s mouth, pulling a small moan from his throat. Anakin didn’t want to wait, not like this. As though Obi-Wan had heard his wishes, the young professor sat up in place and with one swift move, pulled Anakin directly into his lap. Anakin tugged at Obi-Wan’s hair and breathed into the kiss, desperate for more of him.

“What was that again darling?” Obi-Wan said, slowly moving his fingers to the inside of Anakin’s trousers. Anakin couldn’t feel his skin when Obi-Wan touched him like that, nonetheless, get a word out. “ _Please_ ,” he whimpered, begging Obi-Wan to go back where he started a few days ago.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Anakin moved his hands down and began to fidget with Obi-Wan’s belt, desperate to touch him. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening, he’d wanted to touch Obi-Wan for so long. His hands began to shake against Obi-Wan’s pants, the heat of their bodies together making him feel dizzy. Obi-Wan moved his hands down on top of Anakin’s, taking his fingers into his and pressing them against his lips. 

“Don’t be nervous, Anakin,” he said, kissing his rough, shaking knuckles and fingertips. Anakin sighed deeply and looked at Obi-Wan, the sound of his voice and warmth of his breath calming him down already. “And we don’t need to, tonight, if you aren’t ready.” 

Anakin wrapped his feet around Obi-Wan as he’d done a few days ago, straddling his hips against his, “I want to, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said, his lips crashing against his, a tightness in his pants growing more and more obvious, “I want you.”

Obi-Wan, in what felt like one moment, gripped Anakin’s entire body and pinned him onto the carpet. Anakin whined at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hot lips against his neck as he frantically moved his fingers back to Obi-Wan’s belt, this time ripping it right out of the loops of his pants in desperation. Anakin took a sharp breath of air in as he felt Obi-Wan’s hand wrap around his erection, nearly causing him to moan out for every prying pair of ears at Hogwarts to hear. Obi-Wan pressed a wet, languid kiss against Anakin’s mouth as the seventh year unzipped his pants, desperately doing what he could to pull them off. He’d had waited _years_ for this and wouldn’t wait a second more to feel Obi-Wan in his hands. 

Anakin let out a light choke into Obi-Wan’s mouth as he, for the first time, took his cock into his hands. All Anakin could ever remember was wanting to make Obi-Wan _feel good_ and being able to touch him like this; hot, large erection in his hands, was almost enough for him to pass out. Anakin began to move his hand up and down Obi-Wan’s cock as though he’d done it before when Obi-Wan slid his hand down Anakin’s pants.

“Moderation, Anakin” Obi-Wan whispered into his mouth, ripping every ounce of air from his lungs as he began to jerk him off. Anakin couldn’t help but rock his hips into Obi-Wan as he now relinquished every bit of physical control to him.

“Professor-“Anakin choked, the feeling of his orgasm racking against his ribs _already_ , Anakin hissed against Obi-Wan’s lips as he did his best to stop it. He swiftly moved his hand back to Obi-Wan’s cock, the feeling of it pulsing in his hands making the edge of his orgasm even worse. He wanted _more_. 

Obi-Wan moved his hand up and lightly rolled his fingers around the head of Anakin’s cock, humming into Anakin’s neck as he lightly kissed and bit it. Anakin felt himself growing blind with pleasure, the feeling of Obi-Wan’s hard, wet cock in his hands, of Obi-Wan’s lips and fingers jerking him off was too much. Anakin opened his mouth to say something, ask him to keep going when he felt the white-hot rush of come as Obi-Wan pressed against his threshold. Before he could do as much as getting a word out, he was coming in Obi-Wan’s hand, whimpering and moaning into Obi-Wan’s mouth as he kissed him. 

The feeling of Obi-Wan’s cock somehow made his orgasm longer, more intense, as Anakin remembered to continue to jerk Obi-Wan off. He could feel the young professor was close too, as he moved his thumb up to his head, teasing Obi-Wan the way he’d teased him.

“ _Good_ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan said into Anakin’s ear, the two words nearly bringing the young Slytherin back for another orgasm. Anakin couldn’t help it, he _desperately_ wanted to be good for him. Obi-Wan pushed into Anakin’s hand before he quietly groaned into his neck, finally spilling into Anakin’s hand and his tough, strong body tensing up with the weight of his orgasm. 

Obi-Wan breathed heavily as he lowered his body next to Anakin, rolling his head down onto the carpet next to the fireplace. Anakin looked over at him, the love he felt for the professor leaking out of him. _I love you_ , Anakin thought, doing his best to stop from rolling over and going for a round two with Obi-Wan.

“Merry Christmas darling,” Obi-Wan said, still half-clothed, pinning a long, open kiss onto Anakin’s lips. Anakin stayed in place, his lips touching Obi-Wan’s, and wrapped his fingers around his neck, a warm, happy feeling consuming his entire body.

“Merry Christmas,” Anakin giggled, raising his eyebrows as Obi-Wan took his head into his hands and beginning to comb through his hair. Anakin leaned into him, kissing Obi-Wan and lightly flicking his tongue in his mouth. _I love you_ , he thought, heat already spreading from his chest to all throughout his body; the remaining Christmas presents _happily_ forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this feel free to follow me on tumblr :) stanakin96.tumblr.com (I take requests!)
> 
> Please comment, they mean the absolute world to me! I worked pretty hard on this chapter and I hope you liked it :) Thank you for reading! (be gentle)


	11. Cardigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin suffers from some very realistic night terrors and goes to find Obi-Wan. Together, they find a little place in the woods to re-connect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) It means the world to me <3
> 
> song inspo cardigan - taylor swift
> 
> Dedicated to josy 💛

It was nearly dawn when Professor Qui-Gon Jinn heard the whispered rumblings of the Potions Master, Professor Dooku, near the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Qui-Gon often elected to wake up early and meditate, as was his daily practice. However, during his meditations, he couldn’t help but feel a strange, inexplicable tug walk Hogwarts grounds as he did so. He was used to this as an obedient observer, constantly listening to the ebb and flow of magic.

He noticed the presence of dark magic the second he stepped onto the Courtyard. The Professor quietly unfolded a Cloak of Invisibility from his robe, a gift given to him by his mentor, Yoda. 

_Only when you must, you use. Preserve goodness, you will._

“I knew Kenobi would be a problem…” Whispered Dooku, completely unaware of Qui-Gon’s presence. The Potions Master sheepishly turned around, like a hunting dog at the sound of rustling leaves. 

“I was overrun by the Ministry; I had no choice without drawing unwanted attention.” Replied the raspy voice of who could only be Headmaster Palpatine. 

Qui-Gon quietly stepped closer to the pair, his mind slipping back to memories of Obi-Wan being hired as a professor at Hogwarts. Palpatine had outwardly expressed his disinterest in hiring the young Auror, persistent to a point of suspicion. Yoda, as the Minister of Magic, reserved the right to make the final call and swore Obi-Wan in against the wishes of the Headmaster. The Transfigurations Professor had often thought about telling Obi-Wan about the strange energy around his hiring, but never thought it would matter. At least, until this moment.

“I wouldn’t worry about him for much longer, however,” Palpatine said, the air around him growing cold and dark. Qui-Gon was trained to be incredibly sensitive to dark magic and felt the swell of what he could only think of as a large shadow of power. “I have a plan for the young Professor.”

“And the boy?” Dooku commented, his low voice practically shivering in paranoia. The two wizards both immediately shifted their gaze to a small rabbit who had rustled in the bushes. The headmaster lifted his wand slowly and quietly from his robe. 

Palpatine tilted his head at the animal as he wrapped his veiny fingers around a wand that closely resembled that of a pale bone. A thread of yellow ink spread from his wand and circled the small rabbit, causing its eyes to glaze over and turn milky-white. Palpatine lightly flicked his wand in the air, causing the rabbit to stand up. He lightly tuned it to the side, to which the rabbit obediently followed. 

Qui-Gon’s stomach lurched at what he realized could only be the Imperius curse. A tool used by dark wizards to control beings to do their will. The Headmaster let out a quiet, soft laugh.

“The boy will be ours by the end of his Third Task.” 

-

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but be embarrassingly distracted in class, how he felt for Anakin was beginning to grow out of control. He knew that Anakin had friends, had a life outside of him, but was firm in his desire to spend every moment with him and make up for lost time. 

It was one of the first classes after Christmas, Anakin had been spending time with Poe and Finn upon their return and he hadn’t seen him. Obi-Wan was exhausted after many sleepless nights where all he could think about was Anakin. 

“Great class, I’ll see you later Professor,” Anakin said, smiling at him and rushing out of the room to head to his next class. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to thank him, but for all of his expertise and training, couldn’t say a word to the young wizard. His hair had grown long and almost touched his shoulders, it was wavy and lighter as though he had been kissed by the sun. _The sun would be so lucky_ , Obi-Wan thought. Everything about Anakin was impossibly beautiful, he thought, watching the young Slytherin walk away in his dark, tight robes. Obi-Wan had begun to learn every nook and cranny of his body and couldn’t help but delight himself the intrusion of such a feeling. His fingers on Anakin’s skin, on his hip bones, on his bare neck, where nobody else was touching him. 

Obi-Wan raised his hand in the air, signaling a quick goodbye to Anakin, knowing that if he tried to say anything at all, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from what he really thought. He’d say it and everyone would know, his heart would burst into one hundred paper airplanes all littering Hogwarts with the same three words: _I love you, I love you, I love you._

-

Obi-Wan was up late grading papers and doing his best to distract himself long enough to fall asleep when he heard a quiet knock at his door. He jumped up immediately, rushing towards the door, knowing the sound of Anakin immediately. Had it not been him he would’ve been embarrassed at the urgency at which he opened the door but recognized the sound of Anakin’s knock anywhere. He promptly opened the door, mentally preparing himself to send Anakin back to Slytherin house to get some rest, when he saw him, _really_ saw him.

Obi-Wan had only seen Anakin look like this a few times, eyes swollen and sunken in due to lack of sleep. His skin pale and thin from not eating. Had Anakin not rushed inside of his office, Obi-Wan would have insisted he carry him in. He’d recognize this look on Anakin in a second, he was having nightmares again. He’d been plagued with awful, realistic dreams ever since Obi-Wan could remember.

“I had a dream,” he started, pacing back and forth in the middle of the room before Obi-Wan caught him and cupped his elbows with his hands. “What happened darling?” Obi-Wan asked, moving his fingers up Anakin’s arms, lightly scratching at his exposed skin. He remembered from his time as a student that this was one of the only ways to bring Anakin back after a nightmare. The seventh year stopped in place as he dug his fingers into Obi-Wan’s clothing, gripping him tight like he was saving his life.

“They had you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered, tears stinging his eyes “I don’t know who, but they had you.” Obi-Wan moved his hands up to his face, rolling circles into the base of his hot neck. “Breathe, Anakin,” Obi-Wan asked, cupping his ears with his hands and pulling his forehead down so it was touching his.

“I can’t, not here, I can’t be here anymore,” Anakin said, his voice still raspy in the wake of sleep and promptly shoving Obi-Wan away. “We’ll find somewhere else then,” Obi-Wan said, throwing on a grey sweater nearest to him and heading towards the door.

Obi-Wan and Anakin moved in silence on their way out of Hogwarts. The whole castle was tucked away in bed, but just to be safe, Obi-Wan enchanted all the paintings to fall asleep. The only noises that filled the halls were the small sound of their shoes against the ground, barely bouncing off the flickering of the candles. Obi-Wan walked in front of Anakin, careful to turn around and check on him every moment or so. He got like this sometimes, ruthless and his body twisted in pain, in fear: plagued by disasters that never happened.

The pair remained silent as they walked out to the forest, the freezing air of February burning against them. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but immediately think of Anakin, who was only wearing a thin shirt and pants he’d slept in. The young professor opened his mouth to ask if Anakin wanted to go back inside, or at the very least insist that he go back in and grab a robe. Until he saw it, a small, empty cottage far inside the Forbidden Forest. 

“Come with me,” Obi-Wan said, softly grabbing Anakin’s hand and walking towards the house. Anakin flinched at the sudden closeness but let Obi-Wan thread his fingers in between his, nonetheless. Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, Obi-Wan was the only person who could talk him down from his nightmares. In the years where he’d gone without him, they’d gotten progressively worse, tormenting him with awful visions that never came to fruition.

Obi-Wan kept his hand on Anakin’s as he led him to a small house. 

“ _Alohomora_ ,” Obi-Wan whispered, pointing his wand at the old, rusty lock. It softly clicked open as Obi-Wan led Anakin inside. 

Small drapes of ivy threaded through the windows after years of neglect and there were a few dusty stained-glass windows. Obi-Wan, with a flick of his wand, quickly lit a few small candles, exposing a small desk and a bed in the middle of the room. It must have been the home of an old Hogwarts Gamekeeper, Obi-Wan waved his wand again to tidy the room, cleaning the dust off of the bed and desk. Obi-Wan slipped his hand back on top of Anakin’s and turned around to face him.

“You can tell me here,” Obi-Wan said, clinging tight to Anakin’s fingers and looking up at the Slytherin, still sad, still broken. Anakin, with tears in his eyes, violently ran his hands through his hair and turned to Obi-Wan. “What if it’s something bad? What if someone wants to kill you?” 

Obi-Wan’s heart stung at the obvious pain that leaked through Anakin. He would never forget the vision of Anakin falling off of his broom during the first tournament, or the feeling of his lifeless body in his arms after the night of the snake attack.

Anakin ripped his hands from his hair and moved towards Obi-Wan, pushing him against the wall of the tiny, brick cottage. Obi-Wan had never heard him so scared, so unsure, “what if someone gets you?” 

Obi-Wan placed his hands on the nape of Anakin’s neck and tugged lightly on his hair to bring him down to his height. He placed his other hand on Anakin’s chest, which was now rising and falling very heavily at the fact that Obi-Wan was touching him. 

“Nobody can take you from me,” Obi-Wan whispered, still pressed against the brick wall of the cottage. Anakin softly rolled his hands on top of Obi-Wan’s and brought it to his face, his salty tears now dripping on Obi-Wan’s fingers. 

It ruined Obi-Wan to see Anakin so sad, he thought perhaps he might lay Anakin down and hold him until he fell asleep. At least, until Anakin took his hand and began kissing it. 

Obi-Wan felt a familiar hotness in his stomach when Anakin took his index and middle finger and began licking them. The young Slytherin looked up at Obi-Wan, his tear-stained eyes now fierce, and his mouth slowly popping off of Obi-Wan’s fingers. His voice cracked under the weight of his fear, his sadness, “ _prove it_.”

Obi-Wan seethed at the feeling of Anakin’s tongue against him, reminding him of their interaction on Christmas in his office. He could feel himself going blind in light of their closeness, as he gripped Anakin’s shoulders and moved him towards the small bed. This was the first time they’d ever had access to such a luxury, and despite Anakin’s fierce need to shove Obi-Wan up against things, tonight would be different. If he wouldn’t yet tell Anakin that he loved him, he would _show_ him. Obi-Wan placed a warm kiss on Anakin’s neck, crawling on top of him as he laid Anakin down on the white sheets, completely unbothered at his restlessness. He could hear Anakin breathing heavily as he reached his hand down to his pants, lightly running his hand up and down the inside of his thigh. 

“Please,” Anakin whined, pushing into Obi-Wan before he breathed into another long, open kiss, running his hands up the young professor’s chest and discarding his clothing. “Already, darling?” Obi-Wan asked, continuing to card up and down Anakin’s pants. Anakin lightly moaned into Obi-Wan’s mouth, the slowness of his hands and lips making him feel like he might fall apart, “prove it Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan carefully moved his hands down to Anakin’s waistband and slowly pulled his pants down, the small light of the few lit candles reflecting every slip and cave of his body. He moved his head, dragging his lips and tongue over Anakin’s hip bone, kissing what he wished he could have his hands on at all moments of the day. 

He could hear Anakin’s shallow breath filling every wall of the small cottage as he moved closer to his pulsing erection. Obi-Wan wanted to savor every part of Anakin, hide and hoard him so that nobody would ever touch him again. He gripped at Anakin’s hips as he took his large cock in his mouth, careful to go slowly to make sure Anakin knew just how badly he wanted him. 

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin whispered, clawing his fingers into the soft sheets beneath him. It made Obi-Wan sick to hear Anakin say his name like that, so unhinged and desperate. He flicked his tongue over his long shaft, feeling Anakin’s cock grow in his mouth. Obi-Wan moved up to the head of Anakin’s cock, slowly popping his mouth on and off, effectively torturing him. Anakin had to stop himself from bucking into Obi-Wan’s mouth as he continued, knowing that if the professor went any faster, he would be finished in a matter of seconds.

“Your eyes are dilated,” Anakin said, a sweet hint of laughter resonating through every word. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t help it, he wanted more. He wanted to memorize Anakin inside and out, feel what nobody else had. But he knew that Anakin wasn’t ready, and kissing every crevice of his stomach and the corners of hips, getting the time to tease and taste him made the young professor grateful for waiting. Obi-Wan cinched his fingers around Anakin’s wrists and lightly pinned them down on the bed sheets, determined to make him feel the best he ever had. 

“I know what I want,” Obi-Wan replied, lowering his lips back on to his cock. Anakin loudly groaned as Obi-Wan sped up, the feeling of his mouth on him making his entire body tense up. He couldn’t breathe, not like this, with Obi-Wan’s tongue wrapped around him and his strong hands holding him down. He hissed loudly when he felt the tip of his cock hit Obi-Wan’s throat, rendering him defenseless against the young professor. He’d asked him to prove it, and Obi-Wan had done nothing less than _absolutely deliver._

Obi-Wan quickly popped his lips off of Anakin, lightly kissing him again, pupils dark and huge. “Go ahead, darling,” he whispered, knowing Anakin was hanging onto every syllable, that he would hear him just fine.

Anakin pushed harder into him as his orgasm ruined him, loudly crying out for the young professor now that nobody could hear him. Obi-Wan smiled into it, swallowing and breathing every ounce of Anakin in. He gripped the seventh’s years wrists even tighter as he finished Anakin, his own erection jerking in pain. This was the only way he could show Anakin he loved him. What Obi-Wan wanted was not only out of sight, but a sacrifice he gave freely and happily to the Slytherin. He slowly swallowed, licking off every bit of come off of Anakin, who sounded like he’d just finished a game of quidditch.

No part of Anakin felt like he deserved this, Obi-Wan touching him and choosing him like his body would disappear. He whispered his name again, this time a punch of tears hitting the back of his throat as he said it. “Obi-Wan, say it again,” he gripped his shoulders, bringing him back up to his face. 

Obi-Wan smiled at Anakin, eyes confused but glazed over in love with him as the Slytherin pulled his lips back down to his. Anakin kissed him long and hard as he moved his hands down to his belt, his hands steady and strong, unlike the first time. 

“Nobody can take you from me,” Obi-Wan whispered, drowning in the air of the Slytherin. He was everything at this moment, Obi-Wan thought as he breathed into Anakin, kissing him into oblivion. 

Anakin moved his hand down, gripping his cock and lightly stroking it, pushing up from the bed and sitting on Obi-Wan’s feet. “It’s my turn now,” Anakin said, lowering his head onto Obi-Wan, wrapping his mouth around Obi-Wan’s cock and moving down. Obi-Wan ached for him, the feeling of Anakin’s tongue and lips all around him. The feeling of Anakin’s skin at his fingertips, his body sacred and precious like an artifact. 

Obi-Wan quietly swore as Anakin took him deeper, carefully doing his best not to slip up, tell him what he really felt. He took a labored breath as Anakin moved faster, making Obi-Wan realize that he’d been hard for the seventh year for _quite_ some time. He choked on the cold air of the cottage, Anakin bobbing on and off of him, ripping his lungs to shreds as he inched closer and closer to orgasm.

“Anakin,” it was on the tip of his lips, _I love you_ , but he couldn’t say it, not before the feeling of Anakin swallowing his come silenced him. Anakin finished Obi-Wan easily, licking and kissing until he was weak and pointless as long as he had his lips on him. Anakin sat up and laid himself next to Obi-Wan, the room spinning and smelling of Obi-Wan. 

“Say it one more time,” Anakin said, looking at Obi-Wan, now drifting to sleep, his hands cupping his elbows in the sharp coldness that penetrated the room. Without really thinking about it, Obi-Wan picked up his grey sweater that had been lovingly discarded on the desk chair in the tornado of Anakin taking his clothes off. He brushed it off and raised an eyebrow at Anakin, who immediately followed his unspoken request. 

He begrudgingly sat up, spreading each arm out next to him. Obi-Wan threaded one arm through the right sleeve, careful to go slowly, “I swear it,” he finally replied, wrapping the cardigan around Anakin’s strong back. “I’ll remind you forever if need be,” he finished, pulling the left sleeve over Anakin’s arm, smiling as he wrapped it tight around his chest. It looked beautiful on Anakin, his golden hair falling on the collar, his big arms peeking through the knitted braids, it was always too big for Obi-Wan anyway.

Obi-Wan tugged at the buttons, lightly pulling Anakin back to him, feeding his impulses. Anakin sleepily melted into him, letting Obi-Wan kiss him and kissing _back_. Fears and visions in the darkness vanishing in the light of the young professor. Anakin laid his head down on the pillow when Obi-Wan softly pulled away from him, smiling up at him like they owned the cottage, like they could stay there forever.

It wasn’t long before Anakin fell asleep, being around Obi-Wan was the most peaceful he’d felt in days. Judging by the grey circles around his eyes and the chill of his skin, Obi-Wan could tell Anakin hadn’t been sleeping very much. He wouldn’t wake him, not yet, Anakin would have to talk about his dreams again and he wanted to give him more time. Obi-Wan moved about the cottage, blowing out the few candles he’d lit upon their arrival when he sat down at a small desk in the corner, quietly picking up a piece of paper. 

Obi-Wan looked back over at Anakin, if not to stare then just to make sure he was still there. He could see it so easily, Anakin forever, a red string tied between him and the Seventh year from now until the end of his days. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed and breath light with sleep, Obi-Wan’s grey cardigan clinging to his skin. Obi-Wan quickly wrote a note on the parchment and folded it until it was just small enough. He blew out the last candle and slipped on the tiny bed, next to Anakin. Obi-Wan silently tucked the note in the pocket of the sweater, knowing the seventh year would find it eventually.

Anakin didn’t move upon the feeling of Obi-Wan laying down next to him, and if it were any other night if they were anywhere other than Hogwarts, he’d stare at him until the sun came up. He was impossibly jealous of the minutes Anakin wasn’t with him, of every surface Anakin laid his hands on, of the mattress and bedsheets he slept on.

Obi-Wan stared at him and said what couldn’t say when Anakin was awake, what he couldn’t prove quite yet, “I love you,” Obi-Wan combed two fingers through Anakin’s long hair, careful not to wake him. “I love you,” he whispered it one more time. Artifact. Sacred. One hundred paper airplanes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far :) pls leavers a comment and tell me what you think darlings
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! Stanakin96.tumblr.com


	12. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon informs Obi-Wan of his suspicions of dark magic at Hogwarts. Anakin is once again terrorized by nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) song inspo - peace: taylor swift
> 
> this chap is for Jim, aka TinyPhantomSalad <3 (thank you for always being the sweetest)

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan hadn’t spent much time together since Obi-Wan’s return to Hogwarts but had spent a few summers together during Obi-Wan’s time as an Auror. He had been his transfigurations professor but found that he was also quite good company as a magical consultant. Genius in practice, unstoppable wit, and delicious with a few glasses of firewhisky inside of him. Obi-Wan thought back to their last interaction during his time as an Auror.

“You’re going back, might I ponder why?” Qui-Gon asked, setting a third, empty glass on the bar. They’d just finished an interrogation, where Qui-Gon had consulted on the legitimacy of a Horcrux.

“No, that’s a perfectly reasonable question,” Obi-Wan replied, quietly giggling, now halfway through his second glass. “I have some unfinished business at Hogwarts.” He said, heart subtly drowning at the thought of Anakin. He hadn’t seen him since he graduated, hadn’t even heard from him.  


“You're incredibly talented, it better be some kind of calling,” Qui-Gon said, eyeing the bartender for another drink without having to say a word. He was attractive; long hair, tall like a king, and walked with a low, confident Irish accent. He spoke quietly, men like him didn’t need to speak very loudly to be listened to. Obi-Wan nervously grasped his glass, unable to tell if the clamminess of his palms was sweat or condensation. “It is,” he is, he thought, “quite the calling.”

He thought perhaps Anakin deserved the full disclosure of his history with Qui-Gon until he realized there was no real history to disclose. Nothing legitimate had ever happened between the two of them, despite how many times Obi-Wan thought they would. Obi-Wan thought about this as Qui-Gon approached him, the same billowing trench coat floating behind him as they approached the Three Broomsticks.

“Thank you for joining me, I know it was on quite short notice.”

“I trust you when you said it was urgent,” Obi-Wan replied, shoving his hands in his pockets, freezing air pinching at his wrists. Qui-Gon plucked off the whole of his leather glove with one swift pull of the middle finger, ease and strength radiating off him. He lightly waved a couple fingers in the air to a waitress who scrambled to the back upon his request. Again, without ever saying a word. His energy was confident but ultimately unconcerned, his body somehow persuasive in every movement.

The waitress scurried over to the dark brick wall, lightly tapped it with her wand, and smiled brightly at Qui-Gon, his statue-like height somehow no longer intimidating. Obi-Wan followed him into a dark, private room.

“As of late, I’ve felt a growing darkness at Hogwarts,” Qui-Gon said, sitting down and not bothering with any introduction. “Have you noticed anything odd?”

Obi-Wan thought back to Anakin’s nightmares, the missing letters, the snake attack, all of it casting a growing shadow around the young seventh year.

“I thought perhaps it was my imagination until I realized someone in the castle had attempted to cast a memory charm on me. You see, I don’t often take my meditations out on the Hogwarts grounds, but found quite a bit of grass under my boot, and far too early in the morning to make any kind of sense.” 

Obi-Wan felt his heart jerk in place. “How else do you know?”

“I’ve devoted my entire life to the study of magic Obi-Wan, perhaps this is the moment where my studies become useful.” The waitress stopped by their table again, this time dropping off two small glasses of firewhisky. Obi-Wan cautiously took a sip, processing the concerning information, when he realized why Qui-Gon had invited him here, trusted him with this information. He was a solitary person, keeping almost entirely to himself, he wouldn’t have sought Obi-Wan out unless he had a feeling the darkness at Hogwarts concerned him.

The letters, the snakes, _how had he missed this?_

Obi-Wan pressed his index finger to his lips in shock, his mind shooting back to the first month of school, where he’d learned that Anakin hadn’t received any of his letters, or him his. Until now he’d been quite preoccupied in the wake of Anakin’s hurricane, completely engulfed in the young Slytherin and not thinking too deeply about the things that kept them apart. Whoever this person was, not only had it out for him but had been watching Anakin too. His throat closed up at the thought of Anakin in danger, or the prospect that he could in some way, not protect him.

“Why are you telling me this? Why not the Headmaster, or the Ministry?” Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon raised the chilled glass to his lips, eyes serious as daggers onto Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan knew good and well why, what the pair had discussed today was something different than a single dark wizard, it was a matter of secrecy. It was a matter of trust in light of the utmost importance.

“I trained you better than that,” Qui-Gon remarked, smoothly finishing off his first glass.

-

“Go over it with me one more time,” Poe said, looking at Anakin, dark eyes obvious with worry.

“I couldn’t see his face, or really hear his voice, but he’d casted some sort of curse on Obi-Wan and he was,” Anakin choked on the word, “he was dying.” He replied, looking into the fireplace and avoiding Poe’s eye-line. As of late, Poe had stayed up with Anakin who’d recently had a difficult time sleeping. His mind quickly shot back to his night with Obi-Wan in the cottage.

Anakin sighed heavily, slipping his fingers in the pocket of the cardigan Obi-Wan gave him just to feel the note that he’d slipped inside. He’d read it over one thousand times, every curve of ink was permanently burned into his mind, but somehow, feeling the paper against his skin brought him a certain calmness. The thought of him, the fact that he was touching something that Obi-Wan had touched, it was enough. Anakin recited the note in his mind one more time.

_find our peace in the worlds between,_  
_nobody can take you away from me_

Anakin wondered what it meant, knowing that Obi-Wan liked to write things this way. He always had his nose buried in some book and had been secret and hidden about his writing habits ever since Anakin had known him. He’d only read a few of his writings, scraps of paper that Obi-Wan had left in forgotten books, unaware of Anakin following his every move as a young first year. Words _meant_ something to Obi-Wan, something that they didn’t mean to anybody else. Anakin rubbed the smooth lining of the paper in between his index finger and his thumb, its mystical properties etching love into his fingerprints, exactly Obi-Wan’s intention.

“I don’t think I’d survive if anything happened to him,” Anakin said, turning to Poe, who donned the same dizzy, drunken look of deep conversation all over his face.

“I get that,” he whispered, his voice tripping over the feeling of Finn that surrounded him just at the thought of it. The Gryffindor turned over, his body warm like the fire in front of them. “But that’s why we have each other, you know?”

Anakin looked over at Poe, confused at his statement. Aside from Obi-Wan and Padme, he’d never really had friends before, not like this. Not until Poe, who provided Finn and Rey, which may as well have given the world to him. 

“Whatever this is about, we’ll get them, I won’t let them get you,” Poe said, eyes bloodshot and exhausted, but fiery somehow at the same time.

-

Anakin Skywalker woke, unable to scream, or make an ounce of noise as dawn peaked over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His hair was drowned in sweat and his body was hot with fever, yet the first item he reached for was the cardigan Obi-Wan had given him. He pressed the soft, grey fabric against his face and took a deep breath in, the smell of Obi-Wan bringing his heart rate slow enough to calm his dizziness. He’d had another nightmare, one in a series of a thousand others. Without checking to see if his roommates could see him, he slipped the cardigan over his head and quickly rushed out the door, the soft chirping of birds already wafting through the old castle.

He kept his wand firmly in his hand as he quickly rushed down the corridor, his body on autopilot to Obi-Wan’s office. He _needed_ him, needed him so much that he’d risk students finding him on his way to a Professor’s Chambers, a place he most certainly did not belong at the crack of dawn. He whispered a quick _alohomora_ at Obi-Wan’s door and stepped in, careful not to make much more noise.

The young professor, already awake and sipping on a cup of tea, approached the Slytherin. He was clad in oversized navy-blue sweatshirt and grey sweatpants, his hair disheveled with sleep. 

“Anakin are you,” he started, until Anakin interrupted by throwing his arms around his body. Anakin buried his head into Obi-Wan’s neck, taking in every ounce of his skin and smell, bringing him to a wave of peace he couldn’t find on his own.

“I’m scared for you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said. He reached for Obi-Wan’s hands that were now cupped around his ears. The young professor was always so tactile with him, ready to touch him at a moment’s notice. It was one of the aspects of his personality Anakin appreciated most out of the young professor. He took a soft breath of air in, his heartbeat already racing at his touch.

Anakin, without warning, jerked away from Obi-Wan, his skin seething at the absence of his fingers. He felt a well of tears pool up in his eyes. “They took our letters, and they’re controlling my dreams, and I’m putting you in danger.” _It’s not what you deserve, I’m not what you deserve, he thought._

Obi-Wan, unfazed by Anakin pulling away from him, immediately placed his hands back on his cardigan, kneading his fingers into the fabric to keep him still.

“I could never give you peace,” Anakin said, tears ripping and pulling at his eyes as he thought back to the letter Obi-Wan had given him.

“What did I tell you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, his eyes leaking to the brim with love for the seventh year. He thought back to the cottage, Anakin’s tired, sighing body in his arms. His chapped lips against his, kissing away every salty tear.

“I don’t know, Obi-Wan,” Anakin replied, his skin hot and sensitive with shaken nerves. “Yes, you do,” Obi-Wan replied, placing a warm, long kiss into him. Anakin surrendered his whole body to him, his breath and chest echoing into every ounce of security kissing Obi-Wan provided. He did all but melt into a puddle at the young professor’s feet.

“Remind me, darling,” Obi-Wan sleepily asked him, kissing promises and compliments with every syllable.

“Nobody can take you away from me,” Anakin replied, repeating exactly what Obi-Wan had said to him, wrote to him, promised into his bare skin. Obi-Wan smiled, approving of Anakin’s answer. Anakin felt an immediate lightness at his mind shooting back to that night. Obi-Wan kissing him, holding him, making him so sure that nothing in the world could touch his body _except_ for him.

“We’ll fight them all, they don’t know us, not like they think they do,” Obi-Wan said, pressing his thumb into Anakin’s temple. Anakin realized Ob-Wan was on the tip of his toes, he’d seldom noticed that he was shorter than him, every part of him always seemed so tall. “Besides, I am first and foremost your teacher, it’s well within the realm of my responsibilities to teach you how to defend yourself.”

Anakin struggled to focus as Obi-Wan pulled away, his eyes glued onto the young professor. “I’m a little busy right now,” Anakin replied, tears and sadness now completely faded away. A familiar hotness that seemed to appear every time Obi-Wan was close to him had begun to cloud his thoughts. How was he supposed to focus when Obi-Wan looked like _that?_

“Are you going to ask me to _prove it_ again?” Obi-Wan asked, the first smile of the night knocking Anakin off of his feet. “No, I think you did that quite well a few nights ago.”

“Then whatever can I do to have your attention?” Obi-Wan asked, Anakin's eyes already glazed over with love, or whatever it was he felt toward the young professor, “I have quite a lot to teach you.” Anakin pressed his fingers on Obi-Wan’s sweater and tugged it, wishing to do away with the rest of his clothing in general, “you have my undivided attention, Professor.”

Obi-Wan could feel his mouth growing hot with want and desire looking at Anakin, his warm skin barely peeking through his grey cardigan. He didn’t know how much he’d like it- Anakin wearing his clothing. But something about it, knowing that something he owned was touching Anakin’s arms and resting on his bare chest was enough to send a cold rush through his spine. Obi-Wan wanted to kiss him all over, place his lips on every slip of skin that fabric covered, drink Anakin in like a glass of water, but tonight was different. It wasn’t like the other times, desperation and adolescent eagerness didn’t have a place in Obi-Wan’s office that night. Not with Anakin and his red, tear-stained eyes or his tired, sensitive body. 

The young professor cupped a strong hand behind Anakin’s neck, softly scratching through his long hair and pulling him down for a heavy, deep kiss. It was more than Obi-Wan expected, as the young professor thought more from his self-control. Anakin raked his hands over Obi-Wan’s back, undoubtedly leaving scratches through his thin shirt. The Slytherin, desperate and wanting, rushed for Obi-Wan’s belt.

“Not tonight, darling,” Obi-Wan whispered into Anakin’s mouth, lightly kissing the corners of his lips. Anakin furrowed his brow in confusion, _what was he talking about?_

“Let me, instead,” Obi-Wan replied, softly carding his hands up his cardigan, his clothing that Anakin now wore. A sign of possession, a reflection of his love for him. Obi-Wan gracefully pulled it off of Anakin, revealing his sculpture-like chest and torso. Obi-Wan wondered how it was that he could breathe around Anakin, how he was allowed to exist in the same space as him. 

“Lay down,” Obi-Wan whispered, carefully laying Anakin’s bare back onto his desk, now kissing along his collar bones and chest. 

Anakin relished in the feeling of Obi-Wan’s touch, his lips doting on all the parts of his body he so often kept hidden. Anakin raised his hand up to protest, he didn’t deserve this, but the feeling of Obi-Wan’s tongue, licking and carving careful praises into his body prevented him indefinitely. His body was a compass at the hands of Obi-Wan, his north star, infinitely pulled towards the young professor at all moments of the day. 

The Slytherin whispered his name, _Obi-Wan_ , as he felt him move down to his hip bones, carefully undoing his belt to reveal his hot, throbbing erection. If Obi-Wan went any faster, Anakin feared he might say it, what he was desperately afraid of, _I love you, Obi-Wan, I love you_. 

The young professor’s fingers burned away every fear, his mouth melted away every nightmare. Anakin thought he could die like this, Obi-Wan’s hands digging into his skin, his warm mouth now wrapped around his hard cock. Obi-Wan continued to bob his head on and off, slowly and painfully licking up and down Anakin’s shaft, making it impossible for him not to moan out. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin softly cried, before the young professor lovingly pressed two fingers on Anakin’s lips in an attempt to keep a certain level of discreteness. However, something about Obi-Wan using his body to force Anakin into being quiet had the opposite effect on the Slytherin, who immediately took the two fingers into his mouth. This act of intimacy only encouraged Obi-Wan to go faster, go _harder_. It was almost torture to keep himself composed, Anakin thought, the small of his back now hot with sweat and fleshed against the wood of Obi-Wan’s desk.

“What about you, Obi-” Anakin choked out, doing his best to speak over Obi-Wan’s fingers before he softly removed them. Anakin was at the edge, he’d already been tired and needy for Obi-Wan when he’d come to his office that night, and knew he wouldn’t last but a few more moments of Obi-Wan’s tongue raking over his cock. 

Obi-Wan popped his flushed lips off of Anakin and looked up at him, ice blue eyes now practically black with want, “let me make you feel good, Anakin. Just you, I’d like to.” _Let me give you peace_ , Obi-Wan thought, staring up at the Slytherin, his sweat-slicked face and pink cheeks. He was so beautiful like this, it was practically an act of force to tear himself away from staring at Anakin.

Anakin rested his head and neck onto Obi-Wan’s desk as he felt the young professor place his thin hand over his cock, and his mouth gently over the head. Anakin knew he couldn’t survive like this, he writhed and moaned in place as Obi-Wan jerked him off and teased his head with his tongue at the same time. _When had he decided to show me that?_ Anakin wondered, before a truly ruinous orgasm made his mind go completely blank. His only thoughts were of Obi-Wan, of the gorgeous, intelligent, stunning professor causing him to make a mess all over his desk. Obi-Wan licked Anakin clean, continuing up and down until Anakin was essentially paralyzed in the wake of his orgasm.

The sun was now not only peeking through the small windows of Obi-Wan’s office, but bleeding through and reflecting off of Anakin’s hair. Obi-Wan sat up as he took Anakin into his arms, holding his head in his hands and slowly stroking his cheeks. Anakin’s body was still warm and sweaty in light of his touch, Obi-Wan lightly kissed his neck as the seventh year secured himself in his arms.

Anakin’s sleepy breath lightly touched Obi-Wan’s chest, his heartbeat tapping at his body while a familiar, comfortable silence filled the room. Safety was now locked into every corner of Anakin’s mind, a calmness only provided by Obi-Wan. He had been terrified, again, and it broke Obi-Wan’s heart to see him so distraught. 

Obi-Wan thought of Qui-Gon, everything he’d told him about the darkness growing at Hogwarts. Holding Anakin in his arms, Obi-Wan vowed in every second to protect him, promising in every quiet breath to keep him safe, no matter what it took.

-

Obi-Wan sat on a large, brown wood desk as the seventh years shuffled into the room. Anakin stared at him as he walked into the room, the chatting of Poe and Finn melting away at the sight of the young professor.

“Good morning class, today we’ll be doing something a little different.” Obi-Wan turned to the blackboard, immediate silence following his announcement. 

Obi-Wan picked up a small piece of chalk and wrote three spells on the board, _Obliviate, Expelliarmus, and Prior Incantato_. “It’s come to my attention that I have ill-prepared you to combat true darkness, until now I assumed you would never need to protect yourself from such harm.”

Obi-Wan thought once again to Qui-Gon, the most intelligent wizard he’d ever known to be affected by a memory charm. He looked over at Anakin, how he would stop at nothing to keep him safe. “If I cannot prepare you for these happenings: darkness, and evil wizards, then I am afraid I’ve failed you as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

Obi-Wan was heartbreaking like this, a clean-cut dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the first button undone, his skin and lean muscles peeking through wherever they could. All of it haphazardly tucked into a pair of tight black trousers that fit too well around Obi-Wan. _How was anybody supposed to pay attention like this?_ Anakin wondered, the eyes of every student in the classroom was effectively glued onto the professor.

Anakin looked over at him, his heart making him taller than anybody in the class, face beaming with pride as Rey and various other students raised their hands to ask questions. He’d made a promise to Anakin and he would do nothing less but follow through with the entire student body. Such was Obi-Wan’s way. Fearless like a valiant soldier, devoted until his last breath to the people he cared for. Which, essentially, was every person he came in contact with.

Anakin swam in his love for him every moment of the day, drowning in his smile, coming up for air any moment he could touch him. He rested his wand at his side, effectively ignoring Poe’s snarky comments as he looked at the young professor, who’d managed to catch his eyesight. Obi-Wan shot a quick wink in his direction, careful enough that only he would see, but powerful enough to steal the air from his lungs.

Anakin thought wouldn’t survive much longer like this, in love with a man like him, a man he never thought would love him back. He would fail every class he took, ignore every assignment to gain just a few moments with him, trip over every last one of his footprints. A life with Obi-Wan was infinite peace and somehow a never-ending chain of. It made him forget it _all_ , the nightmares, every little fear, knowing that he had Obi-Wan at his back. 

Anakin slipped his hand in the cardigan pocket, the fabric still lightly smelling of Obi-Wan’s cologne. He rubbed the paper between his fingers before turning to listen to Obi-Wan’s lecture. Peace, he finally understood it, looking at Obi-Wan, looking at the life the young professor had given him. He recited it once more in his mind. A poem, a prayer by definition’s sake.

_find our peace in the worlds between,_  
_nobody can take you away from me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you liked it :) Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr!: stanakin96.tumblr.com


	13. Shiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine’s day approaches and Anakin learns some troubling information about the second Triwizard task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: choking
> 
> Thank you for reading :) 
> 
> song inspo: shiver - coldplay

The only thing Anakin could remember feeling about Valentine's day was that he, without a single doubt, hated it. He hadn’t minded it, not really, until Obi-Wan’s Seventh year at Hogwarts.

Obi-Wan had always gotten attention from girls; he was nice, intelligent, a Prefect, and incredibly handsome. He was a good friend to have and a large majority of the witches Anakin knew all had some sort of crush on him. It became something he was begrudgingly used to. However, he began to feel a vast amount of difference when it came to the first boy who’d expressed outward interest in Obi-Wan. He had smooth, dark skin and jet black hair, he was well enough taller than Obi-Wan, a Seventh year, and the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Impossibly gorgeous and far larger and stronger than Anakin, it was enough to make anybody sweat. His name was Cody, and he had chosen Obi-Wan.

“You’re positive you haven’t performed that spell before?” The Gryffindor asked Obi-Wan, sort of hunched over him with an elbow pressed to a pillar, crowding Obi-Wan underneath his height. The two had just gotten out of their Transfigurations class, where Obi-Wan had studied ceaselessly for. Neither of the wizards was aware of Anakin, a Fourth year, watching over them from behind the corner.

“I swear I haven’t, just read about it a lot,” Obi-Wan replied in a sort of half-giggle. Anakin had never heard Obi-Wan sound like that before, not giving nerve-wracking class presentations, before his exams, not even around girls.

Cody smiled at Obi-Wan, “I’ve been watching you, actually,” he finished. Anakin dug his fingers into the wall he was standing behind, _since when did boys talk to Obi-Wan like that?_ “I could use the help if you’re willing to privately tutor.”

Obi-Wan’s face flushed beet red as he clung tightly to his large stack of books, “of course, I’m always willing to help.”

“Tonight’s good then?” Cody asked. Anakin nearly screamed out from his position, tonight? _Valentine's day?_ Obi-Wan quickly nodded, doing his best to regain composure at the invitation from the Seventh year. Without prompting, Cody slipped his hands underneath Obi-Wan’s and took his textbooks. Obi-Wan, while shocked and caught off guard, did not seem to protest in the way he usually would upon someone touching his books, his _favorite_ things.

“If you want these back, as well, then you’ll join me for a drink after as well,” Cody replied, shooting a smirk toward Obi-Wan and sauntering away without a response. After all, the look on Obi-Wan’s face was answer enough to the confident Seventh year. Anakin loudly huffed and turned the corner, unable to watch Obi-Wan be so brazenly flirted with, it made him feel too much, like he could scream out or hit something and it would break into a thousand pieces. He bolted down the corridor, losing himself in the crowd of students to try and hide the tightness in his throat, a feeling he couldn’t quite place.

“So that’s why you don’t like Valentine's day?” Poe remarked, sarcasm leaking from his every word as he picked up a small, glowing heart candy off of the shelf. Rey plucked the candy from his hands and observed it, doing her best to realize whatever magical properties it possessed. The three were out at Hogsmeade, wandering shops gilded with love potions, enchanted chocolates, and various romantic gifts.

Rey placed the small candy back on the shelf and looked back over to Poe, “don’t be mean, Poe. He was only a Fourth year.” Anakin physically recoiled at the statement, he was just a Fourth year and had no place to be jealous of a young, unaware Obi-Wan. After all, at the time, Anakin hadn’t expressed an inkling of expression to Obi-Wan about his feelings towards him, how was he to know?

Anakin reached his hand out to grab one of the enchanted hearts, he was still out a good enough present for Obi-Wan. He was hopeless against him, as any gift Obi-Wan had ever given him was annoyingly perfect. It had always been this way, he thought back to their time at Hogwarts when the only gifts he could afford for him were the ones he could make himself, when he heard a loud cry in the distance. The Triwizard Champions stopped talking and looked at each other, pained, scared expression over each face. They wouldn’t say it, but were all thinking the same thing- it sounded like Finn.

“Did you hear-” Poe started, when they heard another blood-curdling yell come from somewhere outside the shop. Poe immediately tensed at the sound and looked around the room. The other wizards in the store seemed blissfully occupied, completely unbothered by the very obvious cry out in pain, almost as though they had heard nothing at all. Poe, without saying another word, shoved through Anakin and Rey and rushed out into the street, instinctively calling out for Finn, his voice shaking in fear. Once again, the occupants could not appear to care less about the screaming, as the rest of the witches and wizards of Hogsmeade continued about their days.

“Can you hear that? Why isn’t anybody doing anything?” Poe blurted out, shoving his rough hands through his curly hair in panic. Anakin moved over to him, gripped his elbows, and dug his fingers into the Gryffindor’s coat, “we’ll find him, I promise.” He said, looking straight into Poe, feeling his fear through his fingers.

The three wizards walked together throughout Hogsmeade for the source of Finn’s screaming but found that the sound only got quieter the closer they got to Hogwarts. The longer they searched, the more agitated Poe became. He took a deep sigh of air in as he kicked the snow in front of him, face red from being out in the cold for so long.

Rey moved in front of Poe and gripped his shoulders, her eyes bright as the sky, “this isn’t over, let’s try the shrieking shack, alright?” Poe looked back at her, chest rising and falling heavily with each breath. He begrudgingly nodded his head, not letting a single sound out. Anakin couldn’t imagine how he felt, knowing that if it were him in Poe’s position, he would have ravaged all of Hogsmeade by now.

Regardless, the wizards quickly rushed towards the shrieking shack, their boots crunching underneath the fresh snow. They’d heard Finn, undeniably and clear as any other voice. Poe moved ahead of Anakin and Rey, desperate to get closer, he cupped his gloved hands around his mouth and called out for him once more. As Rey had suspected, the screams only became louder the closer they got, to the shack, Poe was basically at a run once the hut was in sight. The three Wizards ran up the stairs, the yelling echoing in their ears and banging against their heads. Wherever Finn was, whatever was happening to him, they were as close as they could be to saving him.

Poe stopped at the top of the stairs, no longer calling out for Finn, and only staring in place. Anakin and Rey ran up to meet him, wondering why it was that he hadn’t found Finn yet, or had done anything at all to save him. The scream echoed throughout the building once more, when Anakin saw what Poe had been staring at. On the black wall hung a large, red clock, with a toy bird that popped out at the minute mark and screamed throughout the house.

“I don’t understand,” started Rey, “it was Finn, at least I thought,” she stopped. Anakin had been convinced of it too, they all had, but the eerie, enchanted object had fooled them. The small bird appeared again to let out another shriek, when Poe cast a paralyzing spell on it, stopping the screaming from plaguing them anymore. Anakin stepped toward the object, despite Rey’s protesting. Whoever had enchanted the clock had known about their connection to Finn and done it purposefully to scare them. Especially Poe, who had not said a single word since their discovery of the enchanted object.

Anakin picked up a small piece of parchment that was tied around the toy bird, unafraid or considering its feasibly unknown magical properties. He could feel the fear in his chest, the anger that someone would do something like this, and especially to Poe. He felt the warmth of Rey and Poe, who were now looking over his shoulder. He opened open the small roll of paper to see scratched, fresh ink handwriting, he read it out loud.

_May this serve as a hint for your second task. Happy hunting, students._

Anakin reached for his wand and angrily set the clock and parchment on fire, they watched as the ashes quietly hit the ground, not unlike the snowfall steps away from them. Silence filled the room as each student wondered exactly what it could have meant, how the clock could have replicated Finn’s screaming so well, and what was in store for them at the next Triwizard tournament. Poe turned on his heels and loudly stomped down the stairs, the three Champions did not say a word.

-

Anakin squeezed the small, poorly wrapped present he’d made for Obi-Wan in his hands as he approached his office. He was still tense from his time at Hogsmead a few days ago, and despite the odd and scary memories of it, could still not bring his mind away from the only thing he could think of on Valentine's day. It was persistent on his mind, the thought of Cody looking at Obi-Wan, possibly touching him. It was embarrassing, to feel so possessive over something that happened so many years ago. He dug his fingers into Obi-Wan’s cardigan, slipping his finger over the note in his pocket one more time before he knocked on his office door.

Obi-Wan rushed towards the door, knowing it was Anakin and flinging the door open. He’d prepared something special and had been aching to see him the entire week, but knew that something was obviously wrong the moment he laid eyes on the Seventh year. Anakin floated into the room, Obi-Wan’s eyes glued onto him.

“Do you remember Cody?” Anakin asked, obviously upset, his eyes sad and angry, placing the small box on Obi-Wan’s desk. Obi-Wan could see it all, every flame licking the insecurities of his mind. He wanted to reach out and cool every bit of fire, every blazing fear. Even with Anakin so visibly upset with him, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but love him. He looked so nice, grey cardigan clinging to his skin, a dark shirt underneath that showed the contours of his chest _just right_. The thin, black ring Obi-Wan had given him for Christmas showing on top of his tan skin.

Obi-Wan reached for his hand, which Anakin begrudgingly let him take, “will you let me show you something? I swear it will help” Obi-Wan smiled in every word, doing his best not to laugh at how ridiculous of a question Anakin had asked. The Slytherin folded his arms and huffed, “fine. What is this?”

“I know you pay better attention in class than that,” Obi-Wan asked, pulling a small vial from his pocket and moving over to a large, grey gauntlet-type object. “It’s a Pensieve, am I correct?” Anakin mumbled, still avoiding Obi-Wan’s eyesight. The young professor had conjured it to show Anakin the exact memory he was referring to but did not imagine that it would be the first thing he did on the night of Valentine's day.

“Yes, a Pensieve. A magical artifact, rare but not uncommon in old wizarding families. If a wizard elects to allow another wizard into their subconscious, poke around their memories, they would use this, and a memory.” Obi-Wan quietly popped open the lid of the small vial he was holding, “are you ready?”

Anakin looked over at him, his anger now melting into a sort of confusion and nodded. Obi-Wan poured the small bottle into the Pensieve, a cloud-like string coming out from where Obi-Wan had touched it. Anakin wondered how memories could look like that, fluid and changing instead of concrete and solid.

Without a moment more of thinking about it, Anakin found himself transported back to his Fourth year at Hogwarts. He could smell it, see it all so clearly. The way the trophy boxes looked after his early morning Transfigurations class, the feeling of his oversized robes, the smell of Padme’s perfume. It made his throat close just for a moment, he hadn’t thought of her in quite some time and it rendered a fleeting but loud cry in his heart. He opened his mouth to ask the young professor what the purpose of them being there was when he saw a young, gorgeous Obi-Wan pass right by him.

“It’s you,” Anakin said, in awe of the power of a simple memory. Obi-Wan chuckled, “yes it is, shall we follow?” The pair quietly trailed behind a Seventh year Obi-Wan, Anakin wondered what it was that they were doing when he began to realize the exact day in memory he had been transported to. Paper heart cut-outs lined the Ravenclaw common room, it smelled of roses, and Obi-Wan’s hands were jarringly empty from where Cody had taken his books.

Anakin thought to open his mouth and say something, ask Obi-Wan why he would bring him to such a painful memory, when the seventh year version of Obi-Wan, hair tragically short and body thin with nerves started to act quite strange. He placed a clammy, shaking hand on his mouth and started to breathe heavily, pressing another hand to the desk in his dorm room to keep himself standing. _Why was he so upset?_

The young Ravenclaw propped open his window and shot out a sharp, quiet whistle. His snowy white owl, Leia, flew at him in a matter of moments in reply, picking at his fingers and squeaking in delight.

“Hello darling,” Obi-Wan whispered, folding his hands into a cross on the windowsill and resting his head down, Leia affectionately poked at him once more. “I’m afraid I’m in quite the predicament.”

Anakin looked over at the old Obi-Wan, knowing that if it were anybody else hidden up in their room talking to their owl it would be the saddest of memories. But to him, because it was Obi-Wan, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth spread throughout his body at the mere sight of it. Everything he did was rooted in innocence, his manner was so sweet and genuine it would melt ice.

“I don’t like him very much, the Quidditch captain, but I suppose I’m quite the lost cause, aren’t I?” Leia blinked a couple of times and stretched her feathers, Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin folded his hands together, perhaps this was the answer to his question if Obi-Wan remembered Cody. The young Obi-Wan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, light red envelope. He peeled off the seal and revealed a folded piece of parchment, his small, intricate handwriting covering both the front and the back. He looked up at Leia, who was now making herself quite comfortable in the crook of his left elbow.

_“Dear Anakin,”_

The Slytherin took a sharp breath of air in, his lungs and heart inflating like balloons at the sight of this.

_“You know I am a terrible liar._

_I cannot fool my professors into thinking I slept well when I was up all night studying. I cannot convince my parents that I’ve been completely focused on my schooling without stuttering. I absolutely cannot eat the mince pie on Christmas without my face going pale._

_However, of all these misconceptions, the worst lie I’ve ever told is the one I’ve convinced you of._

_I’m afraid that you are persistently and ceaselessly the only thing I can ever think about. Though, I believe, anybody should be so lucky to be persuaded to have you as the object of their constant affection. You are gifted beyond your years, far superseding any witch or wizard your age and beyond. You make me smile even when you get me into trouble. There is never a night of my life where you do not control my dreams, there isn’t a single room you walk into that you do not set on fire with your presence.”_

The young Obi-Wan stopped reading and placed his forehead down into his arms, frustrated and cheeks going pink. “I can’t give him this, it’s completely hopeless and frankly, embarrassing.” Obi-Wan sighed and looked up at Leia, “besides, he has Padme.” He held out the letter in front of him, hand barely hanging outside of the small window.

_“I’m yours if you should ever want me, I will always be waiting._

_You know where to find me if I am for whatever reason not at your side._

_Happy Valentine's day,_

_Obi-Wan Kenobi.”_

Anakin quickly rushed towards a young, dejected Obi-Wan, to hug him or kiss him or shake him when the walls of the dorm room began to close in on each other. Soon, they were back in Obi-Wan’s office, it was Valentine's day, and Obi-Wan belonged to him.

“Even then?” Anakin asked, turning to Obi-Wan and grabbing his shoulders with what felt like no control. He was aching to touch him, look at him. Obi-Wan picked up Anakin’s hands, folded them, and pressed a small but warm kiss onto his knuckles, “even then.” Anakin quietly laughed, the sound of it filling with Obi-Wan with light.

Obi-Wan, instead of running his fingers through Anakin’s hair as he usually did, combed through and pushed it away from his face. Anakin raised an eyebrow at him, Obi-Wan replied based off of Anakin’s look alone, “I want to see your whole face, dearest, though I might suffer from calling you that.”

Anakin thought back to his Fourth year at Hogwarts, when he would’ve given anything for Obi-Wan to love him like this, call him silly pet-names and make him blush, fill his arms with every ounce of love he could carry. Anakin had been so preoccupied with his feelings and pride that he’d forgotten that he now possessed the one thing he’d always dreamed of.

“You can call me whatever you’d like, Obi-Wan,” he replied, his voice tapering to a whisper at the Professor’s name, _Obi-Wan_. The two precious syllables caused him to shake; it was a constant shiver that he could feel in his fingers, in his chest.

Obi-Wan rocked on to his tiptoes, softly kissed Anakin’s ear, and whispered a quiet “ _darling_ ” into his skin. Anakin smiled and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s small, but strong shoulders. The professor leaned into Anakin’s neck, covered in chill-bumps from the closeness of the Professor. Obi-Wan whispered again, “ _baby_ ”, causing Anakin to shudder in place. Obi-Wan slowly threaded every one of his warm fingers into Anakin’s as he pressed him up against a wall, now kissing his lips.

It was slow, slower than the two had ever gone and Anakin could feel his body go limp at the interaction, despite its chaste nature rapidly declining. Anakin could feel his every movement, every dig of his fingertips and his soft slips of breath. Obi-Wan whispered one more time, his voice warm and quiet as he called Anakin “ _my love”_. Anakin wondered if it was him who had made Obi-Wan’s breath rough like this, he grinned into Obi-Wan’s lips at the mere thought of it.

“You should have sent the letter,” Anakin whimpered, lightly prying Obi-Wan’s lips open with his tongue. He felt it in his bones, the hunger, the wickedness that devoured him every time he touched Obi-Wan. In what felt like barely a moment, he was back at Obi-Wan’s disposal, his willing obedience at the point of embarrassment. Obi-Wan pressed Anakin further against the wall, his back tensed at the feeling of him carding his hand down his trousers. Obi-Wan _always_ beat him to the chase, now unzipping his pants and making his entire body go warm.

“Shall we, darling?” Obi-Wan teased, already wringing moans and gasps out of Anakin’s mouth.

“Yes,” Anakin hissed, desperate to keep Obi-Wan’s hands at his body. Obi-Wan smiled, his teeth lightly hitting Anakin’s as he stepped away, “lay down,” Obi-Wan asked, Anakin immediately followed his direction. Anakin laid his back down on the carpet near the fireplace while Obi-Wan crawled on top of him, kissing his neck and jaw as he worked his clothing off of his body.

Before Anakin could say anything, he could feel Obi-Wan’s teeth at his hip bones and nails at his skin. He wasn’t sure why Obi-Wan seemed more desperate than usual but absolutely could not complain. Obi-Wan was always so careful and loving with him. Scenarios where the young professor elicited his control over the Seventh year were a constant fixture in Anakin’s fantasies. Anakin loudly gasped as he felt Obi-Wan tease the base of his cock, already rendering his body useless in a matter of moments.

Without really thinking about it, Anakin reached down for Obi-Wan’s hand, lightly wrapped his fingers around his knuckles, and softly brought it up to his neck. Even the feeling of Obi-Wan’s skin against such a vulnerable spot on his body gripped a loud hiss from his throat, Anakin pressed Obi-Wan’s hand against his skin, guiding his thin fingers. Obi-Wan softly pinned his thumb against Anakin’s throat and lightly rolled the rest of his fingers around his warm neck. The simple act of it, something so dangerous yet so loving, made Anakin go blind, he’d never felt so close to Obi-Wan before.

“Is that too much?” Obi-Wan asked, quickly removing his thumb and balancing it back on Anakin’s chest. “No, Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered while reaching back for Obi-Wan’s hand, “it was perfect.”

Obi-Wan shook his head and placed a small kiss on his cheek before taking his right hand and placing it on Anakin’s, sewing their fingers together and squeezing them tight, “you’ll tell me if it isn’t?” He asked, rolling circles with his thumb onto Anakin’s warm hand, who smiled back at him. However much Anakin liked the feeling of Obi-Wan over him, using his control on him, the young professor could not help but adore him with every bone in his body.

“I promise,” Anakin replied, reaching his hand up to Obi-Wan’s head and lightly fingering through his hair. Obi-Wan pressed one more warm, long kiss on Anakin’s lips before making his way down. Anakin let out a sharp hiss as he felt Obi-Wan’s mouth back at his hips, teasing him. He kissed up his hard cock before taking it back into his mouth, all the while his left hand slowly moving up his throat.

Anakin closed his eyes as he allowed himself to sink into the feeling, every time he moved, let out an ounce of noise, the young professor’s grip grew just a _little_ tighter. He was a being of reckless and passionate nature, yet for whatever reason, Obi-Wan etching commands into his skin, with his fingers, his lips, was the most unhinged Anakin had ever felt.

Obi-Wan began to move faster up and down his cock, paying special attention with his tongue in a way that he knew would make it hard for Anakin not to call out for him. He’d been _diligent_ in memorizing the ebbs and flows of his body, Anakin realized. Obi-Wan made a move without Anakin having to ask for it, he brought him to the edge at a second’s notice, his fingers drew lines of fire everywhere they touched. And in this way, Obi-Wan had elicited unintentional but complete control over Anakin.

He pressed his fingers tighter into Anakin’s skin as he felt the Seventh year grow closer and closer to his edge. The closer he got, the more shallow his breath became, the deeper he sank into Obi-Wan. Anakin could feel it on his lips, knowing that a few minutes more of this and he’d tell him. It was odd, the feeling of fingers wrapped around his throat acting as the catalyst of telling Obi-Wan that he loved him. But he couldn’t help it, Obi-Wan directing his breath all the while pulling unstoppable pleasure out of his body realized the deepest of trust in the Seventh year. The three words burned and licked at his fingers like candle-wax as Anakin remembered what Obi-Wan had instilled into him: Patience. Control. Moderation. Anakin waited for Obi-Wan’s signal, something to turn the knife in his stomach when he felt Obi-Wan’s hard, wet cock pressed up against his stomach.

Obi-Wan popped his mouth off of Anakin’s cock and whispered just loud enough into his skin, “ _darling_ ,” Anakin hissed, _patience_. Obi-Wan took his hand away from Anakin’s and wrapped it around his cock, knowing that his fingers would be the final push Anakin needed as he whispered the name “baby” into his chest. Anakin wished Obi-Wan would grip tighter, _control_. The young professor laughed lightly as he released the pressure on Anakin’s throat and kissed a breathy, “my love” onto his jaw.

“Obi-Wan, I,” Anakin’s lungs filled with air as he took a deep breath in, _moderation_.

But the feeling was too much, he felt himself come all over Obi-Wan’s fingers as he caught his breath, writhing in pleasure and pressure, his neck feeling exposed and empty without Obi-Wan’s long fingers wrapped around it. Anakin looked over at Obi-Wan who was now jerking himself off, face flushed and hot with pleasure, he couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t help it.

The Seventh year sat up and placed himself on Obi-Wan’s legs, effectively fixing himself on top of the Professor.

He wanted to be the reason Obi-Wan lost control, feel him come in his mouth and fingers tear at his back. Anakin could feel how close he was, taking Obi-Wan’s large, hard cock in his mouth. He flicked his tongue over Obi-Wan’s head, careful to maintain eye contact so he could see the exact moment Obi-Wan slipped into orgasm. However, looking at the young professor, Anakin could only think to tell him what he’d almost said one thousand times, the only truth he hadn’t delivered to Obi-Wan.

“I love you,” Anakin quickly blurted out, popping his mouth off of Obi-Wan’s cock and staring up at him. Without warning, Obi-Wan felt his entire body go numb at the statement, pushing him over the edge that he was at for quite an amount of time. He’d wanted to hear Anakin say that for so long, too long. Yet, all he could think to focus on was the feeling of Anakin’s hand wrapped around his cock, warm come getting all over his hand and the carpet.

“Anakin, come here,” Obi-Wan said, voice breathy and filled with hits of laughter. Anakin crawled up his body, balancing his head over his when Obi-Wan placed both hands in his hair, thumbing circles into his temples and combing through it. Anakin wondered if it had been too much, if _he_ had been too much.

“I love you too,” the young professor replied, voice giddy and quiet. Anakin rested his forehead on top of his, close enough to almost kiss him, but far enough to see him smiling.

Obi-Wan said it again, “I love you,” as Anakin kissed his cheeks and the corners of his mouth. He’d waited for this moment for years, and relished in every second of it.

Anakin could feel the relief echoing out of Obi-Wan, he did love him. _Genuinely_ love him. The thought burned a hole into his stomach as he pressed another kiss into Obi-Wan’s neck, hands already lightly carding up and down the professor’s bare chest.

“Christ Anakin, I haven’t even given you your gift yet,” Obi-Wan said, body tensing at the feeling of Anakin’s needy fingers. The Seventh year let out a quiet, warm laugh as he placed a finger on Obi-Wan’s throat.

“I can think of something better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment :)
> 
> dedicated to Jim and r_entboy, thank you for always being so sweet💕


	14. Tenuous Winners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the second Triwizard Tournament task finally approaches. Something Anakin sees during the task, however, will haunt him forever.
> 
> (pt.1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this is kind of a dark chapter, I promise it won't be like this forever (or will it?) 
> 
> song inspo: tenuous winners - hunger games soundtrack

The morning of the second Triwizard tournament task was cold, Spring always felt like a second Winter at Hogwarts. Obi-Wan had asked Anakin to meet him in a small, hidden portion of the Forbidden Forest while the rest of the school and Champions were gathering in one of the many courtyards. Nobody would see them here.

“Swear to me that you will be safe,” Obi-Wan whispered, bringing Anakin’s knuckles to his lips, the only warmth provided from his breath. Anakin wasn’t scared for the Second task, but looking at Obi-Wan, his fearful eyes, his shaking hands, he felt fear slip into his heart anyway. Anakin wanted to take him into his hands, card his fingers through the professor’s hair, and kiss him until he went blind. But he could only look at him, echoes of crowds waning in the distance, reminding him of wandering eyes that could be watching.

“I promise,” Anakin said, squeezing tight to Obi-Wan’s fingers and palms.

“You have your ring,” Obi-Wan said, rolling his thumb over the black band on Anakin’s finger. A gift he’d made specifically for him so that Anakin could always have Obi-Wan with him, alert him if he were ever in danger. Anakin smiled at him, rolling his fingers over Obi-Wan’s matching band, “of course I do.”

The pair remained still, crowded in each other’s arms as though it was not the hundredth time they’d embraced. The Triwizard tournament was famous for its dangerous tasks, and the last time Anakin had participated in one he fell off his broomstick into a seething pit of Runespoor. There was dark magic seeping through Hogwarts, with Anakin as its object of affection. While there had not been any incidents as of late, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel terrified for him.

“You remember what to do, with the ring,” Obi-Wan started, before Anakin interrupted him with a wet, cold kiss. Light puffs of snow began to fall, though it posed no interruption to the two wizards.

“I’ll touch it if I need you,” he replied, taking Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, his fingers strong and tough at the tips. Anakin pulled the young professor close to his face, pressing his forehead onto his, their noses bumping as the Slytherin went in for a long, velvet kiss.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, surrendering to Anakin’s touch. It didn’t matter to him all that much right now, the idea of someone possibly seeing them. Not when Obi-Wan felt like this, not with Anakin in his arms, safe for as long as he was touching him. Obi-Wan kissed him back, long and filled to the brim with _wanting_. Wanting to keep him safe, wanting to hold him forever so he wouldn’t have to enter whatever horrors awaited him in the second task. Obi-Wan breathed harder into him, one more time, doing his best to memorize every piece of him.

“You have to leave now,” Obi-Wan laughed, lightly pulling away from Anakin, who kissed him on the corner of his lips while he spoke. “I’d rather stay with you,” Anakin replied, knowing good and well that he would have to leave soon. He stood up straight from bending over to kiss Obi-Wan, looking down at him, his cheeks flushed.

Anakin rolled his thumb into Obi-Wan’s hand, something the young professor always did to calm him down. “I love you,” he whispered, looking directly at Obi-Wan, whose face only grew redder. _How was it that after all this time, it was Anakin calming his heart?_ Obi-Wan wondered, squeezing Anakin’s hand in his, “I love you too, darling,” he kissed his hand once again, his fingers and knuckles cold with snow. Anakin slowly let go of his fingers, smiling down at Obi-Wan as loud cheers began to echo from far away.

Obi-Wan watched him slip off, his dark cloak and body fading into the distance to be taken by the gods of competition, despite however much he’d pleaded with them to let Anakin go.

-

Legilimency, the act of reading one's mind was a subject that Qui-Gon was gifted in. After his many years of magical practices, he found a way to press on the minds of other Wizards. He’d practiced the skill tirelessly without any notion of when he would ever use it. When dark magic crept its sickly head into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he figured that it would be a better time than any. Anakin Skywalker did not know it, but the Transfigurations professor would be watching his every move that day, peering into his mind as he embarked on the perilous Second Task. After all, Qui-Gon had sworn to protect the boy, and would not stop at any costs to do so.

Anakin walked into the Champion’s tent, face and hands still hot from Obi-Wan kissing him, thankful for the cold to disguise it. The Champion’s tent held the usual tenants, Kylo Ren, who had taken a particular interest in Rey, a few professors, and the four seventh years. Poe held tightly to Finn’s hand, looking so intently at him one would assume he was perhaps casting a curse.

“You don’t need to squeeze any tighter than that, you know,” Finn said, looking at an anxious Poe, who retaliated immediately. “I’m going to look at you and touch you until I go out there, just to make sure.”

Anakin stepped out to the courtyard, Rey and Poe following closely behind him. Enough snow had fallen that their shoes loudly cracked at the touch of it. Though the sky had been the perfect picture of a sunny, snowy day, the moment the champions stepped outside a blanket of darkness surrounded them. Anakin looked up into the crowd, knowing that it was foolish to try to capture Obi-Wan’s eye but trying anyway. Anakin shot his eye toward Poe and Rey as the potions master, Dooku, stepped in front of them.

“I am instructed to provide you with one hint before you enter,” his voice was so low, had it not been for the incredible silence between the champions, nobody could have heard him. The Professor wore a long, black cloak that made him look more shadow than man, the dark dome around the courtyard didn’t help.

Dooku reached for his wand and held it in the air to alert the champions of when they would be allowed to enter, “ _great is the wizard who smoke and mirrors burn, and kills their darlings in return._ ”

The professor shot a bolt of white light into the air, revealing a hedge-like maze in front of the Champions and apparating away as though he’d never been there. Poe and Rey immediately rushed off, wherever they were, it didn’t feel like Hogwarts.

Anakin began to pace through the maze, doing his best to manage with ease. He couldn’t imagine what the purpose of this task was, other than to possibly confuse the champions into a madness of some sort, and in that case, then the maze would have been quite useful. Anakin heard a small, but recognizable chirping in the distance that he immediately recognized as Luke, his owl. His heart sank at the idea that he was trapped, or in pain of any kind, he moved off the course he’d set to escape the maze to find him.

“Luke,” he started, looking up at the snowy owl that had perched on top of a hedge. Though, something about the bird seemed different. Whether it was the way he stood, perched so still and stoic, or the screeching. It wasn’t the owl he’d watched over for so many years, it couldn’t be. Anakin thought back to Dooku’s hint, _smoke and mirrors_. He raised his wand at Luke, who continued to screech at him.

“ _Aparecium_ ” Anakin said, pointing his wand toward the owl, not all too positive as to what he was hoping to happen. Without another moment, Luke transformed before Anakin’s eyes. What was once a snowy owl was now a small, brown hawk. Anakin’s revealing spell had worked, he knew it couldn’t have been Luke. The bird screeched one more time at Anakin before flying away, wind from his wingspan rushing through Anakin’s hair.

Anakin felt a rush of warmth flow through him, thinking perhaps this would be the task that he won. Until he saw him, heard him, recognized him simply by the sound of his shoes against cold grass. 

“Hello darling,” Obi-Wan said, something strange echoing through his words. Anakin couldn’t place his finger on it, as he turned around to face him. His heart leaped a few steps at the sight of him.

“You can’t be here, it’s not safe,” Anakin said, running toward the young professor, who was still clad in the dark blue sweater he wore to meet him earlier that morning. Obi-Wan folded his arms in an “x” across his chest, his wand loosely spinning in his left hand, Anakin placed his hands on his shoulders. Obi-Wan seemed unbothered, unconcerned, as he brushed Anakin’s hands off of him, as though they were flecks of dust. 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin started, a large pit forming in his throat. Obi-Wan had never pushed him away like this, so nonchalantly.

Obi-Wan twirled his wand once more before gripping it tightly in his hands, properly throwing a chill deep into Anakin’s spine. Something was wrong, and though everything he saw could not be guaranteed as real, Anakin could not help but feel that Obi-Wan was. After all, he could see him, smell him, reach out his hand and touch him. Anakin gripped his want tightly but would not yield it against Obi-Wan.

“Prove yourself to me,” Obi-Wan said, pulling his wand up at the offensive and pointing it toward Anakin, “show me your _power_.”

“I will not fight you,” Anakin said, his heart burning to a crisp. Anakin felt it, what he’d tried so hard to bury. The rage, the blood, and fire pooling up in his stomach like acid.

There was no way this could be Obi-Wan, the real Obi-Wan. He would never tempt him like this, raise his wand against him in any dangerous sort of way. But something about the young professor was different, his back pressed up against the maze hedge, his once light-blue eyes dark and throwing daggers at Anakin. He wouldn’t fight Obi-Wan, he wouldn’t dare.

“Flipendo,” Obi-Wan said, nonchalantly, barely flicking his wand upwards as he shot Anakin off his feet, his back landing hard on the tough snow. Anakin looked up at the sky, barely able to breathe as Obi-Wan had knocked every ounce of air out of him.

He slowly crept up to his knees, “I won’t fight you-” he started, before he felt Obi-Wan on top of him, pulling him up by the fabric of his shirt. He looked at Anakin, his eyes dark and deep, _this wasn’t him_ , but the thoughts in Anakin’s mind were beginning to slide together, preventing him entirely from being able to tell what was real and what was magic.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Obi-Wan said, bored. A light purple flame shot out from his wand and pushed Anakin back onto the ground, this time several cracks and pops echoing in his ears. He felt a sharp pain in his side and ribs that made it difficult to breathe.

It burned him, the way Obi-Wan was speaking to him. It chaffed his skin: power and his neediness to prove himself to it. No part of him could believe this was happening, but the closer Obi-Wan pushed him away, the more blind with rage he began to feel. As though darkness had taken ahold of him, gripped him by the throat and controlled his body like a puppet, he felt himself begin to surrender. _Obi-Wan? Against him?_

Anakin Skywalker reached for his wand.

“Very good, darling,” Obi-Wan said, bringing his wand up to the dueling position to meet Anakin. Anakin felt himself slipping away as he rose to his feet, unable to tell quite where he was or what he was doing. Darkness began to close in on the Seventh year as he watched Obi-Wan, the man he loved, raise his wand at him. A red bolt of light shot from Obi-Wan’s wand, which Anakin carefully ducked.

Obi-Wan laughed at Anakin, who still would not fight him, when the young professor’s face began to grow pale. “You’re not doing a very good job of being able to tell what is real, darling,” he said as he walked closer to him. Anakin watched as the Obi-Wan sank to the ground, small holes of red blood threading through his stomach, his thighs. Someone had hurt him, someone was _killing_ him. Anakin felt the darkness sink deeper inside of him at the very thought, like he’d jumped into a pool of warm water that had turned to ice the moment his skin went wet. He ran over to Obi-Wan, placing his shaking hands on his wounds.

“Obi-Wan,” he said, his voice shaking with tears, “please don’t do this.”

Anakin’s train of thought interrupted when he heard footsteps running through the snow. Poe yelled out his name and stopped the moment the Slytherin saw him. He aimed for Anakin’s shoulders to pull him away from Obi-Wan, which Anakin could not accept. Someone had hurt Obi-Wan, he had to save him. Anakin shoved Poe out of the way, his fist in a backhand that sent his old friend flying away from his body. _Nobody_ would touch Obi-Wan but him.

The young professor eyed Anakin once more, his face dark and angry as he sunk his head to the ground. He didn’t beg for help, he didn’t cry out to Anakin as he thought he would. Obi-Wan simply slipped away, as though it was not Anakin who was holding his broken, bloodied torso in his arms. He closed his eyes as his shirt soaked through, his consciousness fading from his skin.

“It’s not him, Anakin, not really him, I promise,” Poe said, warily stepping toward the Slytherin, “you know it’s not him.”

Anakin could feel it, the darkness. Usually, it made him dizzy, sick, but seeing Obi-Wan limp and pale on the ground, darkness made him _furious_. Sickles of power began to tend to his blood like vessels, filling every vein, he gripped tight to his wand. He felt as though he could burn a hole in the ground just with his feet as sparks of red began to split from his hands.

“Don’t come near me!” Anakin screamed out, his voice cracking at the sheer volume. He wielded his wand, pointing it directly at Poe, the thought of an unconscious Obi-Wan heavy at the back of his mind. He didn’t know how he could come up from this, return to regular existence knowing that Obi-Wan’s blood painted his fingers. Anakin only knew the power he felt upon seeing him; red, ugly power that seemed to dictate everything he said.

“Don’t come any closer” Anakin said, regaining his composure, wrapping every long finger around his wand. He had to save Obi-Wan, he knew how, remembered something that he’d read in a book over the summer that the Headmaster had given him.

“Go, leave,” Anakin hissed at the Gryffindor, so loudly he thought perhaps his tongue had gone forked.

Instead of running, however, Poe ripped out his wand and pointed it at Anakin, “I’m not leaving without you,” he replied, cursing Anakin, his frozen heart dropping to his stomach. He raised his wand to meet Poe, when the dome that surrounded them began to pan away, revealing a white, cold sun. The maze of hedges sunk into the ground as Anakin began to hear applause creep into his ears. Slowly, he was coming back to life, he looked down at Obi-Wan who was no longer the young professor but simply a body he did not recognize, it misted away like smoke ashes in the air.

Anakin flinched as he felt a hard grip at his wrist, it was Poe, who had still not let him out of his sight. Anakin thought he was going to be sick as he felt his soul return to his body, he looked down at his other hand as the dark blood that once stained his skin began to melt away. It had been fake, but Anakin could still feel every second, every moment. His blood was still on the inside of his fingernails, Obi-Wan’s. Though it had been a rouse, and Obi-Wan’s body had simply been a pawn in the Triwizard game, Anakin could not help but feel utterly broken. All he wanted was to find Obi-Wan, the real one, and hold him until the end of time.

Professor Dooku raised Rey’s hand in the air as monstrous applause filled the stadium, “ladies and gentlemen, our winner of the second task!” Anakin looked over at her, her clothing torn and her face covered in dried blood. _If Anakin had seen Obi-Wan, who had she seen?_

No matter how loud the audience got, how many people patted him on the back to congratulate him, he couldn’t rid his mind of the memory of blood slipping through the ring that was intended to protect him. Without having to rub the inside of the small band, Obi-Wan appeared, safe, in one piece, no scars or blood, but a face in the crowd. 

Though he was standing in a mess of people, Anakin could point him out immediately. Obi-Wan was a star among them, shining gold and bright to the seventh year, drowning out the existence of anybody who stood near him. Anakin felt his heart sink into his stomach as he ran towards him, hoping that there was some way for him not to drop at Obi-Wan’s feet the moment he touched him. He’d never felt such relief, seeing Obi-Wan, Anakin thought, before realizing that he had not moved an inch.

Anakin couldn’t hear anything, he could barely summon the energy and might to raise his head, to use the muscles in his neck. He’d held Obi-Wan’s lifeless body in his arms, felt his chest and soul go weightless. _How could he go on?_

The young champion felt that he could not breathe while holding up his own weight anymore, that his body simply could not bear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for getting through part one of the second task chapters! Leave a comment pls :)


	15. Returning Home (Exile)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin confronts Obi-Wan with a hard realization.
> 
> (Part two of second task chapters)
> 
> song inspo: returning home - the hunger games soundtrack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)

"Would you like to protect him?” Qui-Gon asked while Obi-Wan rushed to down from the Professor’s seats to find Anakin. He’d seen the final, white bolt from Dooku’s wand to signal the ending of the Second Task. He looked up at the Transfigurations professor.

“I don’t know wh-” Obi-Wan started before Qui-Gon interrupted him, “the boy, Obi-Wan.”

The young professor felt his heart sink deep into his stomach as Qui-Gon approached closer to him. They’d both watched the competition, seen Anakin’s response when pitted against Obi-Wan. They’d shared the same terrified, concerned lens that appeared the moment Anakin went dark. It had never occurred to Obi-Wan before that perhaps, some of the darkness that existed in Hogwarts lived inside the object he held closest to his heart.

“It’s nothing he can’t handle,” Obi-Wan started, his heart sinking into the realization that Qui-Gon might know something he did not. The second task had been grueling, he could only imagine the pain Anakin was in.

“He’s eighteen, he’s brilliant,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice growing to a yell at his old superior, old friend. Never could he imagine that he’d ever speak to Qui-Gon like this, fight with him in such a way. The tall, strong wizard gripped Obi-Wan’s coat, to bring him closer, to shake him to his very core.

Obi-Wan hated how Qui-Gon could wring thoughts out of his mind before he’d even considered them, he cursed the older man for knowing him so well.

“He does not know his own power, you did not see as I saw, he is a threat to you.” The familiar smell of Qui-Gon’s cologne, like cedar and firewood, rang like chimes in Obi-Wan’s ears as he placed both hands on his chest. He pushed away from the taller wizard, though the act fought against his body as though he was walking with his eyes closed.

“I believe I can handle my own affairs, Anakin might be eighteen but I am no longer,” Obi-Wan shot back, pulling onto his reserves of aggression that he seldom used. His thoughts unwillingly sank back to his time as an Auror, when he was without Anakin and Qui-Gon had helped him, been there for him. Obi-Wan headed toward the door, inconsiderate of looking back, he could imagine what Qui-Gon looked like, anyway.

“You’re brilliant, too,” Qui-Gon said, his voice like a white key at the left end of a piano, “you know what must be done.”

The young professor turned around, bolted down the stairs and out to the courtyard, knowing that Qui-Gon was still there, watching and knowing what neither of them could say out loud. Obi-Wan could barely see straight as he catapulted toward the Headmaster. Qui-Gon followed closely behind him, possibly to make sure that the young, furious professor would not inflict any bodily harm onto the old man.

“Headmaster, may I have a word?” Obi-Wan asked, crowding him into the champion’s tent. He could feel his face growing red, an impulse he wished he could control.

“Professor Kenobi,” Palpatine replied, lifting his hands casually into the air, gold rings decorating his thin, veiny fingers, “I’m quite preoccupied at the moment.” He returned to his discussion with various magical officials, doting on the students of Hogwarts for being so compliant in the competition.

“Now,” Obi-Wan barked, aware of the sudden rise in his voice and doing his best to calm his heart, “I have a word for you right this moment.”

Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon at his back like he was his hound, aggressive, and requiring supervision. Palpatine had approved this task, _forced_ Anakin into darkness. If Obi-Wan could have, he thought perhaps he would foam at the mouth and rip Palpatine to shreds. The Headmaster begrudgingly met Obi-Wan in the tent after sending off his company.

“How could you approve of this? After everything he’s seen?” Obi-Wan asked, still having to pace himself. The Headmaster could not have appeared more uninterested, which only added fire to the flame brewing in his chest. “You put him in danger, I hope you’re aware.”

Palpatine rolled his eyes at Obi-Wan and folded his arms across his chest, letting down the careful guard he kept up around professors. “Then you better go and find him, professor.”

Obi-Wan, without a second thought, stormed towards Palpatine, his fingers and palms hot with anger. He didn’t often feel like this, blind with rage, so out of control of his own feelings. He felt Qui-Gon at his arm, tugging on his sweater.

“Go find the boy,” Qui-Gon looked at him, eyes pained and serious, “I’ll handle this for you.” He took his hand off Obi-Wan’s arm like it was on fire.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied, swallowing deep. Qui-Gon was a miserable liar, Obi-Wan knew he would take care of the headmaster for him. He shot one last look at Palpatine before leaving to find Anakin, thoughts of his conversation with Qui-Gon still rattling in the back of his mind like coins in a jar.

Obi-Wan would like to protect him, Anakin. Shrink him and keep him in his pocket like a pen, safe from harm, within his grasp at any point of the day. But he couldn’t, it appeared as though danger served as an impenetrable force in Anakin’s life, far more than however much Obi-Wan could love him.

Love wasn’t enough, it seemed.

-

Obi-Wan had no trouble finding Anakin, as the seventh-year stuck out like a ghost among the Triwizard victors. His skin had gone paler than Obi-Wan had ever seen, his eyes confused and _so_ sad. Obi-Wan cleared through the crowd of reporters and students to get to Anakin, uncaring of who he had to push out of the way.

“I can’t move,” Anakin whispered, Obi-Wan gripped tight to his shoulder, his voice shaking with nerves, “I can’t move.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, ripping his wand out from his pocket as the crowd moved their attention to Poe and Rey. "I need you to imagine the cottage for me, outside of the forbidden forest.” Anakin nodded, the knot in his throat growing more and more obvious. Before Anakin could register Obi-Wan’s arm around his shoulder, he had apparated them out of the courtyard and inside the house they used as a secret meeting place.

The seventh-year felt his body give way to his emotions as he finally had a moment alone with the young professor. Anakin knew what he had to do, only needing the courage to say it out loud.

“I have to tell you something, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, pulling the young professor away from the lock of the door, he’d been fumbling with it for too long. He could sense Anakin's tension, his fear in the way that he touched his arm. He’d never felt Anakin like this before. Obi-Wan didn’t reply to the seventh year, moving only around the room to light the small oil lamps.

“We both know it, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, his eyes filled to the brim with clear, lonely tears.

Obi-Wan wanted to stretch his arms around the seventh year like an old cat, popping the tired spaces in his spine.

“We don’t have to know it tonight,” Obi-Wan replied, reaching his hand up to Anakin’s face as he had so many times before. Anakin quietly slid his fingers across Obi-Wan’s hand, silent as though his presence was too loud, too much. Anakin pressed his forehead against Obi-Wan’s- carefully, slowly.

“You aren’t safe around me, you haven’t been in a while” he started, scratches in his voice reminiscent an old record. Anakin thought back to his dreams, how he’d seen every moment of this day coming like a storm in the distance. Obi-Wan pulled him in for a small, breathy kiss. He couldn’t hear this, couldn’t comprehend or begin to imagine a world where Anakin did not belong to him.

 _They were right_ , the seventh year, Qui-Gon, a steadfast ending approached the two wizards like a bolt of light that Obi-Wan could not stop.

“Not tonight, darling, not yet,” Obi-Wan kissed Anakin again, doing his best to soak up his sadness and pain, “am I not capable of making you stay?”

Anakin lightly laughed into Obi-Wan’s lips. He hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Anakin understood the realities far more than the young professor, so much so that it made him laugh. He knew the truth now, how capable he was of putting Obi-Wan in danger, the side he’d seen in the maze that he would not show Obi-Wan. He would _never_ see it.

Anakin kissed the young professor’s temple, his eyes closed as he pulled away, barely able look at Obi-Wan anymore, “I’d rather die than hurt you, even if that means we can’t be togeth-”

“Don’t say it,” Obi-Wan said, pulling Anakin’s face down to his. The young professor didn’t recognize himself, so needy, so scared. He knew what was coming, Anakin was slipping away from him like a silk thread in his hands. He wouldn’t let him go, _not yet_.

Anakin started to kiss him, grabbing tight to his clothing and carding his hands over Obi-Wan’s body, pulling him in tight by the small of his back, “one last time, please, Professor.”

Obi-Wan didn’t want this to be the last time, he could barely comprehend the thought. It made him nauseous, it was his worst fear. He wouldn’t mention it again, not until he’d felt Anakin, kissed him, touched him _one last time_.

“Kiss me,” Anakin asked, his breath already laden with anticipation. Nobody had ever made him feel so breathless and fearless as Obi-Wan did when he had his thin fingers on his body. The young professor moved his hands to Anakin’s coat, damp with melted snow, and pealed it off him. He’d asked Obi-Wan to kiss him, but somehow the simple act of him taking what was cold and heavy off of Anakin’s body felt closer than a kiss.

Anakin wished to do the same to Obi-Wan, who had come to the cottage without a cloak. He’d been in such a fury to find Anakin that he’d forgotten it was snowing.

Obi-Wan took his index finger and slowly ran it across Anakin’s jawline, tugging the seventh year in with the most delicate and silent of commands. Anakin sank into him, letting Obi-Wan softly open his closed, chapped lips with his tongue. He knew exactly how to bring Anakin closer without having to say it out loud.

Anakin placed both hands on either side of Obi-Wan’s face, deepening the kiss as leaks of needy, painful desire began to slip out of his body. The Slytherin ran his hands underneath Obi-Wan’s cold sweater, fingernails already pawing at his skin.

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked, kissing Anakin between every word.

“Take me to bed with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin said in a breathy, desperate whisper. This is how he would remember the young professor forever: his heart bolted into knots of tension, tiny snowflakes peppering his hair. “I get to love you for one more night,” Anakin said, quietly.

Obi-Wan took a shallow breath of air in, he hadn’t yet gotten used to hearing Anakin saying that he loved him. He couldn’t quite comprehend that it could also be the last time he’d hear it, too. He still had so much to say to him, to teach him. He pulled his hands away from Anakin’s unruly hair.

“Don’t forget to study for your exams, though I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly,” Obi-Wan said, pulling Anakin into his arms and lifting his feet off the ground. Anakin quickly wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and shoulders. _When had he gotten so strong?_ Anakin wondered. Obi-Wan laid him down on the bed and began to remove his shoes.

“When you become an Auror, which I know you will,” Obi-Wan crawled on top of Anakin, who sat up straight to meet him halfway, “purchase a camera, you’re going to see so many beautiful places, you’ll want to remember them.”

Anakin felt his eyes sting with tears as he realized what Obi-Wan was doing. He was giving him instructions that he intended on giving him later that professor would no longer be able to deliver. Anakin placed his hand on Obi-Wan’s neck as he did his best to brace himself. This was the long fall, this was the worst pain he’d ever felt.

“Lastly,” Obi-Wan sighed, kissing Anakin’s cheek and jawline, “a few hours outside of Hogwarts is a small town called Coruscant.” Anakin watched as Obi-Wan’s eyes grew glossy and red, “I thought I’d take you there someday, but you’ll have to go without me.”

Anakin kissed him again, pressing his now warm lips against Obi-Wan’s neck, “don’t say it, not yet.” He said, pulling Obi-Wan’s sweater off. He cursed the candles for not shining brighter as little fires bounced off Obi-Wan’s skin. Usually, he was impatient with Obi-Wan, tearing off every stitch of clothing like a small tornado. But this time was different, it would be the last time, he’d revel in Obi-Wan taking his time.

The young professor drug his lips across Anakin’s neck, slowly moving to his collarbones. His warm breath and mouth were enough to rip Anakin to shreds as he continued down his chest. Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s arm, curling his fingers around his bicep and lightly pinning him into the soft bed. The Slytherin could feel himself growing more and more desperate the lower Obi-Wan got.

“More, please,” Anakin whispered, his voice edging on a sort of cry, Obi-Wan hadn’t even _touched_ him yet and he'd already been beaten.

The young professor moved lower, paying special attention to Anakin’s abs and hip bones, places that would haunt Obi-Wan if he didn’t kiss them. His throat cut off when he thought about it, what he could not think about. He dug his fingers deeper into Anakin before grazing his teeth over his hip bones, Anakin bucked into him as Obi-Wan inched closer to his hard cock.

“Please, Obi-Wan,” Anakin begged as the young professor lightly tugged on his pants, carding his hands up and down the inside of his thigh. Memories of every time he’d touched Anakin began to flood back to him, specific like the images had been ripped out of Obi-Wan’s mind. Anakin’s back pressed against his office desk, Anakin legs straddled around his hips the first time he’d dared Obi-Wan to give into him. Obi-Wan could still remember the look in his eyes; cruel and hungry like an animal.

Obi-Wan unzipped Anakin’s pants, listening for the sharp moan that always escaped Anakin’s lips the first time he touched him, _really_ touched him. He moved his hand to Anakin’s hard, throbbing cock and slowly began to rake his hand up and down. Anakin moaned out for him, the tips of his fingers dug into the sheets. Clockwork.

Anakin, though he could barely handle himself at the feeling of Obi-Wan jerking him off, knew he had to feel more. He ran his hands up and down the professor’s back, leaving light scratch marks on his spine, his neck. He didn’t want to give this up, give _him_ up. He cried out for Obi-Wan a second time as he felt the young professor move his fingers up to his head, Anakin gripped his shoulders to keep himself upright.

“Let me, Obi-Wan,” he asked, shakes racking his body with Obi-Wan’s hand still at his cock.

He took his index finger and lightly pressed it on the base of Obi-Wan’s bare neck and kissed him. Though the young professor knew Anakin like the back of his hand, the Slytherin knew him just as well. He pressed his tongue into Obi-Wan, going slow and long, carving words of love into his mouth. He pressed a few more fingers on Obi-Wan, feeling the steady rise of his chest go more erratic. His breath, now heavy and loud against Anakin’s lips, made the seventh year all the more desperate.

Without having to ask, Obi-Wan allowed Anakin to crawl on top of him, pinning him onto the pillows, and wrinkled sheets. Usually, Anakin liked Obi-Wan to be in control, kiss and touch him into submission. But if this was it, the last time, Anakin would have his fill of the young professor. He kissed down Obi-Wan’s neck, tugging at his skin with his teeth, careful not to leave a mark.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, calling out for the Slytherin as he combed through his hair. Anakin picked his head up and met Obi-Wan’s eyes, their noses bumping together.

“ _Stay_ ,” Obi-Wan begged, careful not to say anything else. Right now, he could only manage one word at a time.

Anakin smiled, doing his best to keep the tears safe in his eyes, “I can’t.” He kissed Obi-Wan, if not to simply kiss him, then to distract him from the sadness that painted his face. 

“Please just let me have you right now,” Anakin said, softly laughing, his eyes nearly closed. Obi-Wan pressed his body into Anakin in response, kissing him hard and curling his hands around the back of his neck. Anakin rushed his fingers down to Obi-Wan’s pants, tired of not feeling him in his hands, on his lips.

Obi-Wan took a sharp breath of air at the moment he felt Anakin’s strong, large hand around his cock. It was almost too much, too good. Anakin didn’t waste a moment of time as he rushed his hand up and down Obi-Wan, wringing out moans Obi-Wan didn’t know he had inside of him. Obi-Wan watched as Anakin moved down his body, licking and biting where he could before placing his lips around his cock.

He called out for him, again, so much so that it felt involuntary to the body Obi-Wan otherwise felt in control of. This seemed only to motivate the seventh year, as Anakin went faster. The feeling of Obi-Wan getting hard in his mouth paired with the sound of him gasping his name sent him into a frenzy of some sort. He licked up Obi-Wan’s shaft, starting from the bottom and paying special attention to the tip of his cock, where Obi-Wan was so _thoroughly_ sensitive.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan called out one more time in a sort of whispered cry as the feeling of his orgasm racked his body. Anakin moved his head down Obi-Wan’s cock, taking the whole of his throbbing erection into his mouth as he started to come. The seventh-year looked up at the young professor, careful to make striking eye contact, knowing that it would make the orgasm all the longer and better for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan dug his fingers into Anakin’s tough, flexed back as he felt his entire body tense, struggling to get a full breath of air in as long as Anakin was tending to his orgasm.

“Come here,” Obi-Wan demanded, doing his best to catch his breath. Anakin moved underneath Obi-Wan, able to read the young professor’s mind after so many long nights. His own erection grew in pain, he’d been careful not to touch himself while bringing the older man to orgasm. He knew that Obi-Wan would want every inch to himself.

Obi-Wan didn’t even stop to kiss him as he wrapped his lips around Anakin’s cock, a sight that the seventh-year could never tire of. Anakin reached for Obi-Wan’s free hand, softly placing his much larger hand around his fingers and picking it up. Anakin brought Obi-Wan’s hand to his neck and laid it down softly on his throat, knowing that Obi-Wan wouldn’t do anything without his explicit permission.

“Choke me, Obi-Wan,” he asked, pleaded. The young professor raised an eyebrow at Anakin as he picked his mouth up and to the tip of Anakin’s cock. Obedient to his core, Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around Anakin’s neck, paying special attention with his thumb. Anakin felt his head go dizzy at the feeling, knowing that Obi-Wan controlled every inch of his body, down to when he was allowed to breathe. He would miss this, more than he could imagine at the moment.

Anakin’s body shook under Obi-Wan’s pressure as the young professor pushed him to the edge, licking around his cock. Anakin had been ready for so long. He felt the hot rush of come escape him as Obi-Wan bobbed his head up and down his cock. He released his grip on Anakin’s throat at the same moment the tip of Anakin’s cock hit his throat, releasing the seventh year to the whims of his orgasm. Anakin cried out for him, his mind slipping out reality to be with Obi-Wan and only Obi-Wan at that moment.

His mind drifted off to a promise Obi-Wan once made him as he felt the young professor silently place his arms around his bare shoulders.

_find our peace in the worlds between,_  
_nobody can take you away from me_

Anakin pressed his fingers on the top of Obi-Wan’s knuckles, pulling them close to his mouth, careful not to kiss him. He wouldn’t let himself, not anymore. It was all over, now. 

He could feel Obi-Wan’s jagged breath against his neck as the professor pulled tight to Anakin’s chest, impossibly scared that it would be the last time. The bravery that Anakin once felt about turning Obi-Wan away sunk out of him, spilled away from him with every touch from the young professor. He dug his fingers into Obi-Wan’s hands to keep them there, so he could stop him from leaving if he needed to.

The two silently agreed, Obi-Wan would hold Anakin until he had the power to stand up. He felt the same way he had out in the courtyard, as though his heart carried the weight of one thousand bodies, like his chest was pinning him to the ground. Anakin couldn’t move.

He didn’t move the rest of the night, thinking that Obi-Wan had fallen asleep as his breath grew softer. Anakin kept his hands wrapped around his fingers, careful not to wake him when chirps of mourning doves echoed through the cottage and sun spilled out onto the bedsheets. There was no way for him to know that the young professor had not slept, either.

They’d both been savoring their time, frozen in every moment, unable to sleep knowing that their minutes were numbered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING SO FAR! :) please feel free to yell at me in a comment (i'm so sorry)
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! Stanakin96.tumblr.com


	16. Make You Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin struggles with his breakup with Obi-Wan, a few people are there to help him.

“Did you see Obi-Wan?” Rey asked, her small hands clasped around her stomach. 

Usually, Anakin sat with Poe like this, backs on the carpet in front of the fireplace. However, since his breakup with Obi-Wan, Anakin felt a new sort of closeness with Rey. Something about her energy; careful and brave made Anakin feel comfortable around her.

“I did,” he replied, turning on his side to face Rey and placing his hands underneath his head.

“He wanted to fight me, and it scared me, I think I might have hurt him.” Anakin swallowed hard, there weren’t any tears left in his body for Obi-Wan. He’d come to the conclusion, after playing the second task over one hundred times in his mind, that he had been the one to curse Obi-Wan. Nobody else had been close enough to hurt him. He’d never forget how it felt, wrapping his fingers around Obi-Wan’s torso, blood seeping out of every wound.

Rey extended her hand out to Anakin, placing it a few inches from his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, genuinely and as though she’d seen it herself. Anakin placed his palm on top of hers, accepting her invitation for such friendly affection. He could sense her sadness, her pain. It wasn’t unlike his.

“Who did you see?” he asked, voice low enough to a whisper now that the two were exchanging secrets. Had it not been for the fire reflecting all the high points of her face, Anakin could’ve sworn he’d seen tear drops pooling in Rey’s eyes.

“Ben,” she blurted out, her voice slightly cracking.

Anakin thought back to his time at Hogwarts, doing his best to remember if he’d ever met a Ben, when Rey interrupted him. 

“Kylo Ren,” she started, a sheepish grin slipping across her mouth, “Ben; that’s his real name.”

Anakin felt his heart sink, looking at Rey and realizing the similarities of their situations. He’d been so preoccupied in Obi-Wan, he’d never stopped to consider that he was not the only one chasing after a young, brilliant professor. 

He squeezed Rey’s hand, “I can’t believe I’m not alone, for how long?” He asked, his voice choking on a pained laugh as though playing the part of the friend was difficult for him.

“Long enough,” Rey replied, her pretty teeth showing off a small, but noticeable smile. Slowly, Anakin felt the happiness he’d possessed for the Gryffindor fade when he thought back to the second task.

“How did you know it wasn’t him?” Anakin asked, remembering the terrified look on Rey’s face when Dooku announced her as the winner.

The smile began to fade from Rey’s face, as well. To win, he’d had to strike Ben down, trusting that it wasn’t actually him.

“Ben, he never would have used Stupefy against me, his signature is to use fire.”

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked, his thoughts unwillingly but not surprisingly holding tight to Obi-Wan.

Rey quickly nodded, Anakin felt his breath go ragged and shaky at the question. It was hard, to imagine a world where people got to be with the person they loved and not him.

“How do you know you won’t hurt him?” Anakin asked, thinking selfishly. He missed Obi-Wan so much, there were moments, lapses in time where he thought there was no way to survive like this. The wind would hit him differently, or he’d get a whiff of his cologne in the corridor and it was just enough. _How could you desperately not want to see someone, yet search for their breadcrumbs at all moments of the day?_ He wondered.

“I just have to trust,” Rey replied, placing her other hand on top of Anakin’s so that his fist was encapsulated in hers. It almost hurt him, to be touched. “Trust him, trust myself, and that someday it won’t hurt so badly.”

Anakin watched as the light of the fire began to fade from Rey’s eyes. What was left was her fear and tiny reflections of the windows in her pupils. He knew what it was like, to hurt over someone you aren’t supposed to hurt over. Like an invisible gunshot wound, leaving only you to try and stop the bleeding.

-

Anakin found that, fortunate or not, he spent a great amount of time with Obi-Wan in his dreams. Often, they took the shape of memories, moments that Anakin held onto like an anchor in rough waters.

There had been a day, Anakin’s fourth year, that he returned to in particular. Anakin had spent some time with the other Padmé and the other fourth years, they’d gotten a few glasses of Butterbeer in him. It was Halloween.

“Obi-Wan, I’m so happy to see you,” Anakin said, slipping into the Gryffindor common room well past curfew. His hair was getting long and peaked out in tufts around his neck, Obi-Wan noticed. 

“Can you cut my hair?” He asked, a small hiccup following the end of his sentence.

Obi-Wan, bitter for whatever reason, returning to the book he was reading. “Why can’t you perform the hair cutting spell? I thought I taught it to you.”

Anakin slipped down next to Obi-Wan, bumping his arm onto his. The simple touch was enough to jolt him back to sobriety. “It never looks as good as when you do it,” he said, eyes pleading with Obi-Wan. The seventh-year shut his book and begrudgingly sat up. Various decorations covered the room, from small glowing pumpkins to magical spiderwebs. Obi-Wan wasn’t much for going to parties, he much preferred to stay back and study, or read.

“ _Accio_ , scissors,” he said, “Anakin, sit down over here.” He motioned to a chair, summoning a small cloak around it to catch the mess he would make with Anakin. 

Anakin sat down, his back standing straight. Both him and Obi-Wan had been raised by muggle mothers, which meant that neither of them could place much trust into hexed haircuts. Obi-Wan had been cutting Anakin’s hair since he was fifteen.

Truthfully, Anakin didn’t care too much about what his hair looked like. It was far more of an excuse for Obi-Wan to touch him. Feel his fingers at his neck, carding through his hair. Obi-Wan carefully placed his thin, soft fingers at Anakin’s jaw, “can you look to the right for me?” 

Anakin turned his head; he knew the drill. Even just from the simple touch of Obi-Wan’s fingers at the back of his head, he could feel chill bumps cover his entire body. He closed his eyes as Obi-Wan began to take the scissors to his hair.

“Your hair has gotten quite long,” Obi-Wan said, Anakin could practically hear Obi-Wan smiling, he could never stay mad at him long. He pressed his index and middle finger to the base of Anakin’s neck, brushing away stray strands. It took everything for Anakin, tipsy, and delicate after drinking not to gasp out loud. He felt his neck go hot and red at the closeness of Obi-Wan’s breath.

“The other side,” Obi-Wan said, quietly. 

Anakin turned his head to face Obi-Wan. He looked so nice, the light of the common room fire bouncing off his golden hair and flecking over his smile. He was wearing one of Anakin’s favorite sweaters, a dark, Slytherin-green one that clung tight to his arms and made his eyes look _ridiculous_. He was so close to him, only inches away from his lips as he lifted his hand to keep Anakin steady.

Anakin softly laughed, reveling in the closeness of the interaction and doing whatever he could to distract himself. If he didn’t figure out something to say or do, he’d have his hands in Obi-Wan’s hair, kissing him. Obi-Wan would put down the scissors and kiss him back, and he would be his. Finally. Anakin swallowed, having to remind himself to keep breathing.

“Don’t worry,” Obi-Wan said, smiling quite brightly at Anakin “it’ll be over soon.”

Anakin didn’t want it to be over soon, though. He thought he could die happy like this, Obi-Wan softly running his fingers through his hair, giving Anakin his undivided attention. The Ravenclaw moved even closer, rendering Anakin pitiful and indefinitely holding his breath. He quietly dug his fingers into the soft cushion of the chair he was sitting on. 

“You’re done, you look,” Obi-Wan said, ruffling his fingers through the top of his hair, his breath hitching in place when he really got a look at Anakin, “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Anakin said, utterly awkwardly. He nodded his head at Obi-Wan, his attention painfully focused on Obi-Wan’s lips. The two wizards sat in silence, looking at each other, unable to say a word that either of them would be allowed to.

Anakin always woke up at this point, instead of ravishing his bed and walking off in a fury as he usually did, he felt something about tonight would have to change. He looked out the window, a full moon peeking through the glass and reflecting on his black bedsheets. Instead, Anakin pulled his pillow close to his chest, tears melting out of his eyes like candlewax. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop it. 

He closed his eyes, focusing on how it felt to have Obi-Wan’s hands in his hair again, his fingers at his neck. Eventually, it was enough to lull him back to sleep. Remembering the feeling would have to be enough, for now.

-

Defense Against the Dark Arts was next to impossible, for Anakin.

Firstly, it was right after his Transfigurations class, which meant that he always got a peek at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon chatting in the hallways. Intrusive or not, it always led Anakin to feel hot, blind jealousy towards the Transfigurations professor.

“You know there’s no way that’s happening, right?” Finn said, watching them talk, as well. Anakin shuffled over to the Gryffindor; his eyes glued to his shoes.

“He loves you,” he said, placing a hand on Anakin’s back as they walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. They sat down at their regular seats, where Poe and Rey were waiting. Together, Anakin’s three friends had him on a 24/7 watch. The only time Anakin could get a moment without them was in sleep, and even when he woke up, one of them would be waiting at the Slytherin entrance to walk him to class.

“Poe, tell Anakin there’s no way Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are, you know,” he cocked his head to the door, doing his best to signal Poe with his eyes.

“Absolutely not,” Poe immediately replied, pulling his legs off the top of his desk and turning toward Anakin. 

Anakin sighed and sunk into his seat, “they had a thing, once.” A sharp, painful silence followed between him and his friends. He felt Rey’s soft hand at his shoulder.

“Listen to them, they like you better than you right now,” Anakin sighed, knowing that Rey was right. Still, it wouldn’t bar his mind from thoughts about Obi-Wan moving on from him. Even though he found breathing and seeing straight difficult when the subject came to mind.

The class went by painfully and slowly, as though Anakin was moving through his life at half-speed. Every now and then he’d catch Obi-Wan’s bluebird eyes, whether it was him calling on Rey, who always had a raised hand. Or on accident, when Anakin found himself unwillingly staring at Obi-Wan for long periods of time. By the time class was over, Anakin was ready to either jump out of a window or tackle Obi-Wan. He’d worn his grey, thin glasses that Anakin was obsessed with. 

Anakin, in a fury, stormed out of the classroom the moment Obi-Wan dismissed the class. Perhaps he could drop out of the class, claim that it was detrimental to his health, or that he’d be better off getting real-life experience. The Headmaster liked him, he was sure he could get some kind of pardon.

“Mister Skywalker,” called out Obi-Wan. Anakin cocked his head to the side; Obi-Wan calling him Skywalker? He begrudgingly turned around to face him.

“Master Kenobi?” Anakin replied, “as long as we’re being formal.” 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and started back on his way to his office.

“Wait,” Anakin said, walking towards the young professor, abundantly aware of the hundreds of eyes and ears in the corridor. Without asking, he gripped tight to Obi-Wan’s robes and drug him into the closest broom closet, fast enough that nobody would see them both enter. He quickly locked the door, before looking down at Obi-Wan.

“How am I supposed to teach when you look at me like that?” Obi-Wan asked, folding his arms in a furious “x”. Anakin gasped in exasperation.

“I do not look at you in any way,” Anakin remarked as Obi-Wan brushed the wrinkles out of his sweater where Anakin had latched onto him.

“You most certainly do,” Obi-Wan replied, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. Even the sight of Obi-Wan doing so caught Anakin off guard. He could smell his shampoo, see how his hair looked in the dim light of the closet. It made him furious that his hands didn’t belong to Obi-Wan. He pressed one hand to the wall behind Obi-Wan, crowding him underneath his height.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said, his gaze moving towards Obi-Wan’s bare neck. He recognized the all too common race in pulse all over the young professor. “I won’t look at you anymore,” he said, making sure Obi-Wan had nowhere to look but directly at him.

“It’s fine,” Obi-Wan quietly replied, his breath cracking under the pressure of Anakin’s closeness.

Suddenly, he couldn’t stop himself. Anakin was close to Obi-Wan, closer than he’d been in days in a dusty broom closet. Usually, he liked for Obi-Wan to be in control, but now, after he’d been touch-starved and broken for days, he couldn’t stop. He gripped Obi-Wan’s sweater and shoved him against the wall and started to kiss him.

Obi-Wan, also not truly thinking about it, couldn’t stop himself as well. Anakin felt as the young professor began to card his hands through his hair. Obi-Wan gripped at the back of Anakin’s neck, haphazardly pulling him down to his height to deepen the kiss. He pressed his tongue into Anakin’s lips, rendering the seventh year weak and seeing stars. Anakin could barely breathe at their closeness, but breath didn’t matter so much, not right now. Not while Obi-Wan’s lips were on his. 

Anakin, not knowing how much longer Obi-Wan would allow his desperation, began to run his hands all over the young professor’s chest. Obi-Wan’s lips parted and he whispered Anakin’s name, _called out for him_. 

And _Christ_ if it wasn’t enough to send the Seventh year into complete madness.

Obi-Wan; from his lips to his eyes to his tight body, it was all simply _intoxicating_. 

“What about Qui-Gon?” Anakin asked, his eyes already filling to the brim with warm tears. It was so painful, to feel Obi-Wan’s hands against his when all he wanted to do was fall at his feet. Touch his skin, kiss him until there were no spots on his body that Anakin had not touched.

“Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan asked, “what about Qui-Gon? Kiss me.”

Unused to such demands from Obi-Wan, Anakin happily obliged. He placed another long, toothy kiss into Obi-Wan’s lips, careful to taste every bit of him. 

“Are you with him? Do you love him?” Anakin asked, breathless. Obi-Wan sent a weak smile his way and softened the grip he had on his robes.

“Qui-Gon is my friend, nothing more,” pain seemed to cover his face as he moved inches away from Anakin. “If you must know, you are _still_ the constant and utterly persistent object of my mind. Unfortunately, I never stop thinking of you.”

Anakin tightened his fingers on Obi-Wan’s robes at the feeling that he was slipping away. Though this was the first time Anakin had been in any kind of physical contact with Obi-Wan since the night they broke up, he could not help but remain incredibly delicate at the closeness of the young professor. It made him sick. Sick like all he’d be able to do after such an interaction is lay down and breathe. If that.

“However, this is too painful for me, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, letting go of Anakin all together. “I’m in love with you, this hurts me.”

It hurt Anakin more than he knew it would, to see how sad Obi-Wan looked. He’d never seen him like this, broken and so small. 

To Anakin, Obi-Wan was always the tallest in the room, the brightest smile in the castle. It felt impossible to see him this way. It was as though he was living in a folktale and not his own life, a world where everything was turned upside down. He let go of his grip and slowly ran his fingers down Obi-Wan’s forearm, careful to catch on every bit of fabric that he could. Even the milliseconds of touch were precious beyond measure.

“I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan,” he said, voice low and quiet. The weight of reality began to settle onto Anakin’s shoulders like concrete, bolting his feet to the floor so that he couldn’t move anymore. Obi-Wan wasn’t his anymore, there could be no more secret meetings, no more stolen touches. Neither of them could survive in this way.

Obi-Wan looked at him, his eyes weighted with what could only be described as infinite sadness. He placed a careful hand on Anakin’s, as though if the pair touched for any longer than a few moments they’d set a small fire. 

“It’s alright, Anakin.” Obi-Wan softly taking Anakin’s shaking fingers into his, “if you should ever change your mind, I’ll be at your feet at a moment’s notice.” 

He let go of Anakin’s hand, leaving him to feel weak and so painfully alone. The shackles of reality at his ankles grew heavier and heavier the farther Obi-Wan stepped away from him. The young professor headed toward the door, he looked back at Anakin; his eyes red with frozen tears.

“I’ll go first,” Anakin said, shocked at how willing he was to leave Obi-Wan. However painful it was to leave the same room as him, he loved him enough to know that being caught in a broom closet with a Seventh year would not bode well for his career.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he said, looking back at his shoes, knowing that he could absolutely not look at Obi-Wan. He felt faint even speaking to him.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, brushing past Anakin, careful to keep his glaze close to the floor as well. He couldn’t say much else to Anakin, not anything that wouldn’t ruin him, nothing that wouldn’t keep him at the Seventh year’s side for the rest of eternity. 

Without a second more passing, Obi-Wan was gone. All that was left of him were the soft pills of navy fabric that glittered underneath Anakin’s fingernails and the faint lingering of his cologne. 

Knowing that there was absolutely no way he could continue to face the world, Anakin sunk to the floor of the broom closet, pressing his back to the wall and closing his eyes. Anakin was a glutton for pain and would occupy the space Obi-Wan once existed in until he felt his chest go numb. 

He’d stay there for as long as he could, waving his fingers through the air that Obi-Wan once stood in and drinking in the lingering sounds of his low, sweet voice. 

-

Anakin didn’t know how long he’d been in the broom closet when Headmaster Palpatine found him. He looked so tall; his grey, wrinkled face looming feet above him. His dark purple robes casually brushed the ground he stood on.

“Mister Skywalker,” he said, reaching his hand out to Anakin, which he took. Palpatine helped him stand up, a small dizziness setting over Anakin. “Why should I find you here?” 

“I didn’t feel well after class, I fell asleep,” Anakin said, rubbing his eyes with his dusty knuckles and facing the Headmaster. He opened up the door to the closet, motioning his hand to usher Anakin out. Darkness had fallen over Hogwarts, Anakin had been in there the rest of the day.

The headmaster moved out to the middle of the hallway, slow and quiet enough he could have been a ghost. He turned to Anakin, a certain type of expression painting his face. Anakin couldn’t quite place it, what Palpatine’s eyes were saying to him. He felt a jolt of pain hit his brow and spread across his eyes. Suddenly, Anakin was transported back to every fearful moment he’d experienced at Hogwarts. From the night of the snake attack to every Triwizard task, it all came back to _this feeling_.

“I can help with that feeling,” Palpatine said, his back now turned from Anakin, “though I’m sure you’d prefer the teachings of a different professor.”

Anakin, struck by the burning, reckless pain stopped the Slytherin in place. He felt the pain grow and seep into his neck like someone had given him an injection that would render his body immobile in a matter of moments. He couldn’t ask for Obi-Wan’s help anymore, not as long as his presence put the young professor in danger. Anakin thought back one more time to how it felt to have Obi-Wan’s fingers at his skin again, he would do anything to keep them there.

“Is it possible to learn this power?” Anakin begged, his voice cracking in his swollen throat. Palpatine shot him a small, sort of half-smile. Anakin searched for another heavy breath.

“Not from a professor,” Palpatine replied; his plan blooming from an apple seed to an orchard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) leave a comment pls <3


	17. This is the Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a mysterious conversation with the Headmaster, Anakin falls under a dark spell. Obi-Wan, like always, is there to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> song inspo: this is the last time - the national

Headmaster Palpatine’s office had not changed very much since the last time Anakin had been there. The wood was dark, the fireplace went unused, and it felt undeniably quiet. It was the absence of enchanted quills and clocks from Obi-Wan’s office that Anakin had gotten used to. He missed the warm spaces left by floating candles, the smell of parchment and cedar. 

But he couldn’t think about it now, he was here to learn how to protect Obi-Wan. On the chance that someday he could run his fingers over the tips of flickering flames above his wood desk again, or feel the old, navy carpet on his bare back. Palpatine slowly walked the room, his bony fingers clasped together lightly.

“Do you know the tragedy of Lord Plagueis, Anakin?”

Anakin awkwardly shuffled in his seat; he’d only heard the story in books. A shrill of discomfort hit his body. “It’s a children’s story, Headmaster. To warn them about,” he stopped, mulling over his words as his head grew dizzy with pain.

“To warn them of dark magic?” The Headmaster replied, still roaming about his office. Something about the air around him was inherently grey; as though he’d slipped on a storm cloud like a shirtsleeve. 

“An old wizard, he had such a knowledge of dark magic that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.”

Headmaster Palpatine had only said a few sentences to Anakin, and yet, it was as though he’d dropped a match into a room licked with oil. A peculiar feeling began to rise in Anakin like he’d suffered a small prick to his heart. His thoughts inevitably went to Obi-Wan, the man made of ink stains the sun, the compass to which Anakin’s heart constantly searched for.

“I’ve been told to stay away from dark magic,” Anakin said, thinking about every class he’d spent with Obi-Wan.

“There is a power, to split one's soul and conceal it in an object. It protects the life of the Wizard who casts it.” Palpatine ran a long finger over a small knife on his bookshelf. Anakin remembered it from the many afternoons he’d spent in The Headmaster’s office before Obi-Wan’s return. He looked back over at Anakin, who now fixed his gaze to the ground.

“And how might one split his soul, Anakin?” He said, still barely paying any close attention to the seventh year. It reminded Anakin of his fifth year when Palpatine had first taken interest in him.

“Murder,” Anakin replied, almost instantly. While he did not desire to practice the dark arts in any form, he knew a good amount about it, “killing rips the soul apart.”

Palpatine turned to Anakin, a quiet and concealable smile peeking through small teeth and lips. He had to be careful to not be cruel and appear to enjoy himself. It was all too easy.

“Imagine if one could harness such a power, if only it weren’t a children’s story,” The Headmaster said, folding his hands together in front of him. Anakin sank into the chair, his mind circling the young professor only a few doors away. 

“It’s getting quite late, Anakin. You should get some rest,” the mask of concern was easy to impress on Anakin, who’d become far weaker than the Headmaster imagined. Knowing that he not only held Anakin’s fate like a crushable object in his hand, but also that the boy was _letting_ him, made the Headmaster sick with power. Anakin had done half the work for him by sending Kenobi away.

Anakin nodded his head, eyes still circling the knife on his bookshelf. He stood up, “thank you, Headmaster.” 

It took every effort on Anakin’s part to not think of ways he could use what Palpatine had told him not to protect Poe, Finn, Rey, and most of all; _Obi-Wan_. He opened and closed the heavy office door in one moment, unable to look back at The Headmaster, fearing that he would be able to pick up on his thoughts.

The idea persisted, waving its ugly head in Anakin’s thoughts as he walked back to his room.

-

Anakin woke that night feeling the best he had in weeks. 

It was as though someone had somehow taken his heart and brain from his body and left only his limbs. Like his thoughts were not of his own but those a happier, lighter person. It was early, it would be at least half an hour before the sun would begin to rise. 

As though he somehow had the power to now float, he lifted his body from his bed and started down the stairs and out of the Slytherin dormitories. Unsure of where he was going, and only knowing that he needed to _leave_.

His bare feet echoed throughout the empty Hogwarts corridors. He never went barefoot or left the room in just his sleeping clothes. However, any thoughts of the oddness of it all were immediately shook out of him, like there was an invisible broom sweeping away every question he had about the intoxicated state of his current body. 

Anakin continued down the hallway, still unsure of where it was that he was going when a small light reflected off one of the trophy cases nearing the Professor’s quarters. Anakin gasped, bringing his fingers up to his eyes as a long, dull pain waved over his head and neck. _What was happening_ , he wondered to himself, before the thought was promptly squashed like a spider at the boot of his mind.

He took a deep breath as he inched closer to the trophy box. Something was _wrong_ , perhaps he was dreaming, or sleepwalking. With one concentrated push of all the strength he had, Anakin gripped the sides of the trophy case to get a clear reflection of himself.

His eyes were a pale, milky white as though a small fog had been placed over them. He dug his fingers tighter into the case, feeling the power that possessed him trying to stop him from seeing himself. He barely recognized his face, his hair messy and all over, his forehead beaded with sweat and the undeniable haze of magic that glossed over him. 

The power that gripped his body turned his head away from the glass in one jolt, and ripped him away from the trophy case entirely, forcing it to crash onto the floor. Anakin walked forward, cutting the bottom of his bare feet on shards of glass, leaving streaks of blood in the form of his footsteps. 

He barely felt the pain, he could only feel the mist, and an unbreakable desire to make it to the Professor’s chambers. He stepped on another piece of glass, puncturing deep into the arch of his foot.

_The Professor’s chambers._

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered to himself, his throat choking on fear, yet he continued forward. He went quicker, now that he’d realized his destination. He couldn’t stop himself; he couldn’t comprehend the idea of stopping. Like he would cease to exist if he didn’t make it to Obi-Wan’s office, which was now within inches of him.

He slipped his hand in his pocket and wrapped a few thin fingers around his wand.

“ _No_ ,” Anakin whispered to himself, terrified of the intentions of his own body. He had to break whatever spell he was under, to protect Obi-Wan. He lifted his wand out of his pocket and quietly unlocked Obi-Wan’s door. Anakin tried to lift his hand to his wrist to stop himself but couldn’t. He dug his feet into the ground, sharp glass piercing even further into his skin as he tried to stay put and failed. 

He floated into Obi-Wan’s room, catching the faint vision of Obi-Wan asleep at his desk, papers were strewn about. Anakin gripped his wand even tighter as he realized a truth that he could not escape; _he was here to kill Obi-Wan._

Anakin’s mind peered back to a lesson Obi-Wan had taught about the Imperius curse, that it could be broken if the witch or wizard was of strong enough might. Anakin dragged his bloody feet toward Obi-Wan’s desk. 

He was a perfect target like this; asleep, in the dark, alone in a room with someone he trusted _completely_.

“I won’t,” Anakin said, his voice scratchy and nearly silent as the magic tightened around his throat with an iron grip. A small, flickering enchanted candle lit itself in the corner of Obi-Wan’s office. Anakin focused on the little flame, feeling that whoever was in control of him certainly did not want him to.

Obi-Wan’s bright, accented voice echoed throughout Anakin’s mind as he fought to think about his lesson. His head and eyes burned as though they’d been set on fire to return to the single moment in time. 

_“Focus on concrete objects, things that are authentic to your person. They will serve as a tether to pull you away from the curse.”_

Anakin, drenched in sweat, nearly blind and sick from pain, focused on the things around him that he knew to be true. Things that only Anakin, the _real_ Anakin could remember. He was in Obi-Wan’s office. He’d been in there too many times to count.

_Parchment and cedar._

He fought against it, he began to feel the curse struggle under his efforts to banish it. He wouldn’t kill Obi-Wan, he wouldn’t lay a finger on him. He approached closer to the sleeping professor, now an arm’s distance away from him. He saw Obi-Wan shift in his seat as he slowly crept up from sleep.

_Rough, navy carpet._

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to possibly cry out but did not draw his wand against Anakin. Anakin felt the consuming power lift his wand, a lethal spell edging on his lips. He closed his eyes, trying one more time to rip the spell from his body.

_A soft, grey cardigan; buttoned up by Obi-Wan._

Anakin tore out of the psychosis, Obi-Wan’s blue eyes terrified. The seventh-year pointed his wand back at himself, instead. 

“ _Sectumsempra_ ” Anakin whispered, wand at his stomach, as whatever power that controlled his body began to seep out of him. 

As though a metal snake had slithered in and out of his torso, small cuts and holes began to poke through his shirt. Anakin fell onto his back, his mind torn to shreds after battling the unknown power. He barely remembered how to breathe as he slipped away from reality. His vision went blurry and grey as more blood sank out of his stomach and onto Obi-Wan’s floor.

Anakin began to wonder if this is what death felt like when he felt a pair of strong, warm hands on his waist. 

“ _Vulnera Sanentur_ ” Obi-Wan whispered, waving his hands over Anakin’s stomach. His voice cracked on the edge of the sentence. Seeing that the spell wasn’t doing enough, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Anakin’s torso and closed his eyes, focusing every ounce of magic he’d learned to heal Anakin. _Vulnera Sanentur_ , he whispered again, no idea of what had just happened to him, and only knowing that he had to save Anakin.

It felt almost impossible for Obi-Wan to hold him like this again. Anakin‘s body limp and lifeless, like he had held it so many times before. The first task, every nightmare, he knew the feeling of Anakin’s soulless body all too well for one lifetime.

The smell of his blood filled the young professor’s head and nose and made him sick. He continued to press his hands into Anakin’s skin, feeling magic, thick like fire burn into his bones. Obi-Wan had no idea how much blood Anakin held in his body, it felt like an impossible amount. 

He recited the enchantment once more, his heart lulling in pressure as he felt the gaping holes in Anakin‘s chest and stomach begin to fade away.

The seventh-year opened up his eyes as he felt his soul return to consciousness. If only to look upon Obi-Wan, to see him one last time even in death. Though, he realized, that Obi-Wan had saved him. Of course, he had.

Anakin took one weak hand and pushed it through Obi-Wan sweaty hair. He was holding him, the young professor's soft skin etched magic into Anakin‘s ribs. Obi-Wan took his hands off of Anakin‘s chest, realizing that he had done all he could. 

He wanted to scoop Anakin’s entire body off the ground and carry him to bed but knew that he couldn’t. This wasn’t the proper time to beg Anakin to come back to him. However, Obi-Wan wanted to be close to Anakin so badly it made his fingers hurt. He pulled Anakin’s body up and whispered into his ear.

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan whispered. He threaded his fingers in between Anakin’s, lightly drawing golden strings in between his knuckles and down the lines of his palms. 

Anakin wondered how it was that he could feel so safe when he was just seconds away from his death. He pulled Obi-Wan’s hand, intertwined with his, and brought it up to his lips. 

Obi-Wan swallowed, the feeling of Anakin’s shallow breath on his fingers devoured him. Anakin kissed his hand, quietly, moving up and kissing the bones of his wrist. Anakin continued up Obi-Wan’s arm until he couldn’t anymore, the feeling of intense, insurmountable guilt washed over him. _He shouldn’t be allowed to kiss the skin of someone he’d almost killed_ , he thought, as he laid his head in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and on his rising chest.

“Obi-Wan,” he choked, ugly sobs already shaking his ribcage that seemed so small now. 

“I’m so sorry,” he continued, voice stuttering on his cries. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Anakin’s back, doing his best not to flinch at the feeling of his spine, the thinness of muscles and skin that used to be so strong. He rolled his fingers into knots at the base of Anakin’s neck, knowing exactly the places the seventh year kept his tension.

“I told you, it’s alright, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, wondering if he was telling the truth. Anakin had tried to kill him, but it hadn’t really been him. Obi-Wan was an Auror, he’d recognized the signs of the Imperius curse before he even got a full look at Anakin. 

Anakin struggled to breathe at the weight of his panic, so he gripped onto the fabric of Obi-Wan’s shirt even tighter, likely leaving red claw marks into his skin.

“Come here,” Obi-Wan whispered, careful not to trip on his panic as he wrapped his hands around Anakin’s face and his fingers through his hair. Anakin looked so sad, eyes bloodshot from tears and lack of sleep.

“I tried to kill you Obi-Wan, I wanted to,” Obi-Wan softly shushed him, nesting his head into the space between Anakin’s neck and shoulder. He hummed into his cold skin, “it wasn’t you, Anakin, I would know,” Obi-Wan placed a small, wet kiss onto the base of Anakin’s jaw.

“I’ve known you since you were little,” Obi-Wan said, feeling a weak smile form just at the thought of Anakin as a first-year. “I remember the moment I realized you were taller than me,” Anakin felt his heart slow listening to Obi-Wan. The hot tears in his eyes sank back into his throat, instead.

Seeing Anakin’s body slip away from panic, Obi-Wan continued, “I was in the library, and you snuck up behind me.” 

Anakin softly choked on a laugh, sinking into the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice. He could close his eyes and be asleep in moments just at the sing-song sound of it but couldn’t stand the idea of missing any second with him. The moment they were in felt protected by briars, untouched by anybody who wasn’t the two of them.

“You pushed on my shoulders and,” Obi-Wan said, laughing too.

“I scared you,” Anakin interrupted, the familiar grin Obi-Wan hadn’t seen in quite some time lovingly filling his face. Anakin never looked so good as he did when he smiled.

“And when you left, I felt the place your breath had touched my neck,” Obi-Wan wanted to kiss him, Anakin could tell, “I couldn’t help but wonder, _when had he grown so tall?_ ” 

The two wizards quietly laughed; their voices exhausted by the night’s events. Anakin sank further into Obi-Wan’s hold, feeling every ounce of strength return to his body the longer Obi-Wan touched him. He _needed_ him, Obi-Wan was like air and water to a body fading away; Anakin knew that the only way he could make it was by Obi-Wan’s side.

“You fought it off, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, knowing how Anakin would destroy himself over the events of the night, “your goodness broke the curse.”

Anakin reached his hand, transparent and cold, and combed it through Obi-Wan’s hair. He couldn’t face the world without him. It seemed as though even when he’d decided to stay away from the young professor for his own good, he constantly found himself at his door.

 _I can’t do it without you,_ he thought.

Anakin softly pulled Obi-Wan’s forehead to his and kissed him. Like every kiss before, every blur of the world luckily faded away. It was just them, now.

“ _Stay_ ,” Obi-Wan whispered, breathless, and kissing Anakin’s face. It wasn’t a question like it had been last time, it was a demand; a decree. Anakin could feel it in the young professor’s grip, the delicateness in how he kissed him; he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “You must let me keep you safe.” 

Anakin kissed him again, slower, harder. It fought against every reason Anakin had left Obi-Wan in the first place to take him back now after he’d put him in imminent danger. He thought back to what Palpatine had told him; stories of Horcruxes. None of it mattered if Obi-Wan didn’t love him. He’d almost killed him. The world was on fire.

The seventh-year had his speech prepared to send Obi-Wan away when he felt the young professor slip one arm behind his back and one below his legs. He wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, recognizing the swift strength he’d lifted him into the air with so many times before. 

“I’m not leaving you this time,” Obi-Wan sat Anakin down on his desk and pressed his body in between his legs. 

Anakin thought back to the first time he’d seen Obi-Wan since his return to Hogwarts. How handsome he looked, how furious he’d made him. 

He remembered everything; the fireplace of the Ravenclaw common room, slow-dancing on the night of the Yule Ball. Anakin ran his hands up Obi-Wan’s chest, letting the warmth from his body seep into his fingers and his bones.

_“I’m never leaving you again.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mention it enough, but your hits/kudos/comments mean the absolute world to me. Leave a comment if you'd like :)💕
> 
> tumblr: stanakin96.tumblr.com


	18. Written in the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a secret note passed in the hallway, Anakin meets Obi-Wan in the Astrology tower for some long overdue alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pure self indulgence, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> song inspo: written in the stars - aida the musical

“Were you hit by a train?” 

Finn asked as Anakin stumbled into Transfigurations, his legs loudly clanking around like he’d had a small weight tied to each ankle. Poe turned around in his seat and observed Anakin, raising his eyebrow in inspection. Anakin reached his hand up to his neck to adjust his scarf to cover up a small bite mark.

“Nah,” a slick smile covered Poe’s face, “he’s just getting some.”

Anakin felt his face go pink at the statement, he coiled further into his seat like a small animal. The truth was, he and Obi-Wan hadn’t done much of anything besides a few incredibly heated make-out sessions since they’d gotten back together, many of which had left Anakin with a variety of small bruises on his neck. Anakin was scared of losing control with Obi-Wan, creating an insurmountable amount of sexual tension between the two. 

“Do you not know how to heal bruises?” Rey asked slipping a finger into Anakin’s scarf and lightly pulling, “unless-“

“I didn’t have time, before class,” Anakin finished, pulling his scarf tight to his neck, knowing he’d be mortified if Qui-Gon saw it.

Transfigurations class continued as normal; Anakin struggled to focus on his work with so many thoughts at the back of his mind. To exist had been laborious for him, however, since Obi-Wan had returned to his life he’d felt a blanket of control wash over him. Nothing made him feel brighter or better than being around the young professor, who relentlessly sought out every last illuminated spot of his heart. Anakin wanted to fold Obi-Wan up and take him wherever he went like a note in his pocket.

“You seem good,” Rey mentioned, cleaning up their station as the class came to an end. She was a natural at transfigurations, able to focus in a way that most could not, Anakin valued her deeply as he looked down at his untouched quill and parchment. She smiled at him, her girlish prettiness making Anakin’s ears go slightly red.

“Yes I am,” he replied, looking at her, “you too.”

Rey continued slipping the rest of her items into her satchel, Anakin noticed an awkward Kylo Ren (or _Ben_ , as Rey had informed him) standing at the exit, his intense gate nearly spanning the door. Her and Anakin had spent many nights together when he’d been without Obi-Wan. Her kindness had been like a pool of safety to the young Slytherin. Anakin wanted to be like her, she reminded him of Obi-Wan in that way. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she said to him, slipping her small hand onto his forearm to signal a goodbye, her bright smile covering her face. She loved the black-haired Professor, Anakin could tell. 

Love felt enough lately, it seemed.

“Mr. Skywalker, may I have a word?” Anakin heard Qui-Gon ask. He turned around and started towards his desk as the remaining students shuffled out of the room. Qui-Gon was far from his favorite professor, as he was suspicious of his history with Obi-Wan.

“How are you feeling?” Qui-Gon asked, opening up a satchel and digging through it for something. 

“I’m better,” Anakin said, realizing how likely it was that Obi-Wan had told him about what had happened the night of the Imperius curse.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take up too much of your time,” Qui-Gon pulled a small box, haphazardly wrapped and held it in front of him. “I’m well aware I am not the person you’d prefer to be talking to” Anakin opened his mouth to interrupt him and deny the claim that was unfortunately true when the professor held out the package to him. 

“However, I would like to help,” Anakin looked at the package, “take it,” Qui-Gon said softly. Anakin wrapped his hand around the bag and placed it into his satchel, wondering what on earth he’d given him. 

“It’s an invisibility cloak,” Qui-Gon said, sitting on the edge of his desk like Obi-Wan often did. _Had he learned it from him?_

“Sir, I can’t,” he started, before Qui-Gon interrupted him.

“Whoever is out to get you will be at the third task, I want you to be equipped as possible. Obi-Wan would want me to give it to you.” He solemnly folded his large hands in front of him and folded them in his lap. Anakin suddenly felt bad about being so cold to him. 

“Thank you,” Anakin replied, looking up from his shoes and making eye contact with the professor. 

“If you should ever need anything, you need not hesitate to ask,” Qui-Gon finished, signaling a certain finality to the interaction. Anakin began to step away, doing his best to figure out why Qui-Gon had given him such a priceless possession. 

“Now get to class,” he said, a hint of sarcasm making Anakin feel better about their conversation. Anakin nodded his head, thanked him once more, and left for the exit. Poe and Finn stood at the door and quickly ran to his side. They would be late for Herbology if they didn’t hurry.

“What was that all about?” Finn asked, speed walking down the corridor.

“Nothing,” Anakin started when he saw an undeniable figure approach him. 

It was Obi-Wan, wearing a dark green sweater and grey pants that clung _so tightly_ to his legs. Anakin felt the undeniable urge to duck into a broom closet or sink into the ground as he felt his face swell with heat. He took a heavy breath.

“What’s wrong with you?” Finn asked as Obi-Wan approached them.

“Hello boys, how is everyone today?” Obi-Wan asked, infuriating Anakin. Obi-Wan walked Hogwarts and recklessly talked to people, smiled, and looked beautiful as though he was not concealing the fact that he was an angel living among them. It confused Anakin, why he would ever try and pretend that he wasn’t. Poe and Finn giddily replied and shook hands with the young, shiny professor.

“And how are you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I’m good, I’m great,” Anakin stuttered, the palms of his hands growing warm in his pockets, “thank you for asking, you seem great too.” 

He looked down at the floor, doing his best to avoid Obi-Wan’s eyesight. He wanted to tackle Obi-Wan and kiss him until he couldn’t see anymore. Getting back together with Obi-Wan after they’d broken up made Anakin feel like he’d started at square one. Him; the seventh year powerless to a young and gorgeous professor. Every time he saw Obi-Wan, it was like he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m glad to hear it, I will see you in class then,” Obi-Wan replied, very smiley and doing his best to ignore Anakin’s nervous energy. However, when he passed by him, Obi-Wan brushed his hand next to Anakin’s and slipped a small piece of parchment in his fingers. Anakin felt his face go warm, Obi-Wan and him hadn’t passed notes since his early years at Hogwarts.

“The tension between you two is frankly getting out of hand,” Poe said while Anakin unfurled the small paper, “like I’m feeling a little hot right now I can’t lie.”

_Midnight, Astronomy tower_

Anakin smiled to himself as he walked in front of his friends, shaking his head as they continued to make lewd remarks, wondering how it was he became _so_ lucky.

-

Anakin followed the instructions of the letter and arrived at the astronomy tower at midnight. He’d only been here for class with Professor Kyrze, to which he did not have the best of memories. 

He smelled Obi-Wan’s cologne at the top of the stairs, making his body go cold. He stood next to a window, looking out at the stars that seemed brightest late at night. The year was coming to a close, which meant Anakin had spent many late nights awake with friends, studying for N.E.W.Ts.

“Come here,” Obi-Wan said, picking up a few fingers into the air and beckoning Anakin towards him.

“How did you know I was here?” Anakin asked, slipping off the cloak of invisibility, Obi-Wan turned towards him and smiled.

“I always know when you enter the same room as me, I see Qui-Gon gave you the cloak?” he turned back to the sky as Anakin shook his head. He still couldn’t seem to manage to talk about Qui-Gon without feeling jealous. He crept up behind Obi-Wan and slipped his arms around his waist, tucking his head into the crook of his neck.

“What do you see?” Obi-Wan asked. Before them outstretched a vast sea of forest that seemed to span every edge of the world.

“Land,” Anakin replied, “stars.”

“When I was an Auror, I used to look at them and imagine that perhaps you were looking at the stars at the same moment as me.” Obi-Wan continued, “We could go anywhere, together,” Anakin felt his face go red at Obi-Wan’s mention of their future together.

“If I live until then,” Anakin remarked, the veil of his feelings making room for his darkest thoughts. 

Such thoughts only ever came out around Obi-Wan. The young professor made him feel safe, protected enough to be himself. Obi-Wan turned around, his body already close to Anakin’s from where he’d held him. Anakin’s heart began to race now that he faced Obi-Wan, he looked down at his shoes before he felt a soft finger at his chin.

“You will live a very long life, with me,” Obi-Wan said, placing a kiss on Anakin’s cheek and feeling the heat of his skin. “If you’d like, I don’t mean to imply anything- marriage or-“ Anakin stopped his sentence by placing a chaste kiss to his mouth. 

He’d thought about it many times, marrying Obi-Wan. For a wizard who acted as though he cared about very little, Anakin always liked the idea of being married. It was in his nature to be fiercely loyal.

“I think so much about my dangerous future,” he rested his forehead on Obi-Wan’s, “it’s hard to imagine that I have a happy one.” Obi-Wan rolled his fingers up Anakin’s chest and hugged the sides of his neck. He pulled him down for a long kiss.

“You have a very happy future,” Obi-Wan said, kissing the boy between every one of his words.

“Did you bring me up here just to kiss me, Professor?” Anakin quietly laughed.

“I had intentions to teach you some invaluable skill or impart world stopping knowledge,” he carded his hands through Anakin’s robes, “but it seems I have forgotten them both.” Obi-Wan blushed at the attention of Anakin and began moving his fingers throughout his hair. It had been too long since they were so close. 

Anakin quietly gasped at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s fingers slipping underneath his shirt. The young professor softly dragged his fingers up and down his spine as he kissed him, eliciting a small moan from Anakin’s mouth. It had been so long, _too_ long. Obi-Wan slipped his hands over Anakin’s chest, pushing his shirt up and over his head; revealing Anakin’s bare skin. They were the most visible location they’d ever been, and yet, Anakin felt the most desperate for Obi-Wan. 

_I’ll be sick if you stop touching me, he thought_. Without a second thought, Anakin slid his hands underneath Obi-Wan’s arms, lifted him, and shoved him against the nearest wall he could find. 

“Eager, are we?” Obi-Wan remarked as Anakin raked his sweater off of his body that was now covered in chill bumps. Anakin took a finger, traced it down Obi-Wan’s neck and did his best not to imagine his hands wrapped around it. Anakin began kissing Obi-Wan, starting at his lips and slowly moving down to his chin. He carefully licked his collarbones, reveling in the heat of Obi-Wan’s body. 

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan whispered, making him even more feral than he’d been before. The seventh-year took his right hand, wrapped his fingers around Obi-Wan’s wrist, and pressed it against the cold wall. He should’ve known better than to moan his name. 

Anakin carded his tongue up and down Obi-Wan’s torso, lightly biting at the places he’d missed most. He felt Obi-Wan’s free hand rope through his hair, tugging harder the closer Anakin got to his erection that was _all too obvious_ through his trousers. Anakin fumbled his hands over the zipper of Obi-Wan’s pants when he felt a demanding hand on his jaw, beckoning him to look up at his face.

“Slowly, Anakin,” he said, a small smirk on his face. He knew very well Anakin didn’t like _slow_. It took all of Anakin’s will power to not take Obi-Wan’s other hand and shackle him against the wall, creating the false illusion that he was in control. Nevertheless, Anakin stopped himself.

He knew the truth: Obi-Wan wore him like a well-tailored suit jacket.

“Very good darling,” Obi-Wan rubbed his thumb affectionately over Anakin’s skin as he slowly crept his fingers up the inside of Obi-Wan’s pants. Anakin watched as Obi-Wan rested his head on the wall and breathed tightly as he finally put a hand on his cock. Even though his pants, Obi-Wan was _impossibly_ big. Anakin felt his mouth water feeling the sheer size of it again.

“Can I?” Anakin asked, doing his very best not to let his desperation show, wrapping his fingers around the inside of Obi-Wan’s pants. The young professor, also doing his best to not show weakness, quickly nodded his head and whispered a tapering “ _yes_ ” to the Slytherin. 

Anakin smiled, he liked to see Obi-Wan unraveled. He unzipped Obi-Wan’s trousers, pulling them and everything else off with ease. He watched as Obi-Wan’s painfully hard cock throbbed in front of him. Anakin met Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“And I’m the eager one?” Anakin asked, toying with the young professor. 

Without instruction to do so and only his agenda in mind, Anakin began to tease Obi-Wan. He licked the base of his cock and rolled his thumb lightly over the head. Obi-Wan’s entire body tensed, providing Anakin with ammunition he certainly did not need. He felt his own cock twitch in his pants.

“Off,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to his clothing, “I want to see you.” 

Anakin, who’d been crouching until now, rose to his feet. He quickly took off his pants and sank to his knees, now completely open for Obi-Wan to see. Anakin gratefully took Obi-Wan’s cock into his mouth and listened for the sound of his gasp.

“ _Very good_ ,” Obi-Wan hissed, right on time. Anakin grinned into it, pressing his lips down on his cock, attempting to take it all in at once. Anakin, in his eagerness, let out a choke as the tip of Obi-Wan’s cock hit his throat. He quickly popped his lips off to regain composure.

Obi-Wan gingerly ran his thumb over Anakin’s jaw, “what did I say about going slow, darling?” Anakin replied by slowly licking up Obi-Wan’s shaft, listening intently for the audible moan.

“ _Or not_ ,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice shaking in pleasure. Anakin grinned and kissed all over Obi-Wan’s cock, feeling too good about himself every time he heard the young professor call out his name. 

However, being so close to Obi-Wan, his lips wrapped around his large cock only deepened Anakin’s want to have him closer. His _need_.

“I want more, Professor,” Anakin whimpered, his lips covered in precome and his knees scraping the ground, “ _I want you to fuck me_.”

Obi-Wan took a very labored breath of air in. He’d waited patiently for this and didn’t want to hurt Anakin. He looked down at the seventh year, slipped two fingers over his jaw, and pointed it up to his face. His fear of damaging Anakin wasn’t enough to pull him away from the idea, the image of it had already intoxicated him like liquor on an empty stomach.

“Are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked.

He took Anakin’s hips in his hands as the seventh quickly got on his knees, digging his fingers into the ground. However long Obi-Wan had waited for this, he had too. 

“You’ll say if you want me to stop,” Obi-Wan said, “am I clear?”

“Yes professor,” Anakin replied, his throat seizing as he felt Obi-Wan’s hard cock brush against him. He listened as the young professor slipped his fingers into his mouth. Obi-Wan slowly ran one hand up his spine, lightly carding his fingers over the ridges of his bones when he felt a wet hand press against his skin. Obi-Wan placed a soft kiss on the small of his back when Anakin felt his finger slip inside of him. 

Anakin loudly moaned out, _how was he supposed to remain composed when it was Obi-Wan’s cock and not his finger?_ His mouth watered again just at the thought of Obi-Wan’s large cock inside of him, _finally_. Obi-Wan slowly pushed deeper inside of Anakin, running his finger in and out of him. 

“Very good, Anakin,” he remarked, pushing a second finger in. It took all Anakin’s strength not to moan out for him again. His cock throbbed in pain from keeping himself from coming, he wanted _more_ but didn’t know if he would last much longer with Obi-Wan _inside_ of him like this. Obi-Wan went faster, driving his fingers in and out of Anakin, wringing his body out like a wet washcloth.

“More, please,” Anakin begged, only able to manage out a couple of words in such a state. He felt a scream build in his throat as Obi-Wan wrapped one hand around his cock, slowly carding his hand up and down his burning shaft.

“Darling, I’m not sure how much more you can take,” Obi-Wan remarked, referring to Anakin's shaking body. He was well on the edge of orgasm and had been since Obi-Wan pushed one finger inside of him.

“ _I can take it_ ,” Anakin said, taking a moment to breathe, “I can.” Obi-Wan sighed and peeled his hand off his cock. He moved to his own, covering it in Anakin’s precome, his fingers still deep inside the seventh year.

Obi-Wan would have to be careful, gentle. He’d had more experience than Anakin and would sooner pass away than hurt him. With all that in mind, Obi-Wan slipped his fingers out, pressed the tip of his cock against Anakin, and dug one hand tight on his hip. He could feel Anakin’s body trembling in anticipation.

“ _Please_ , professor,” Anakin whined. Obi-Wan growled as he slowly began to push his cock inside of Anakin, doing everything possible not to absolutely _rail_ him.

Anakin, as though he had no control over his body, immediately called out Obi-Wan’s name, practically screaming in pleasure. 

He could feel himself go blind at the feeling of Obi-Wan’s huge cock now buried deep inside of him, a feeling he’d thought of but certainly was unable to replicate by himself. He’d never felt anything like this.

Obi-Wan pushed harder inside of him, slow enough to pull another long moan out of Anakin. He felt Obi-Wan’s cock so deep inside of him he thought, for a moment, he’d go blind. Anakin started moaning again as the young professor slowly started to thrust in and out of his body.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help it as he allowed himself to wrap his hand around Anakin’s rock-hard cock. Feeling Anakin wet and trembling in his fingers paired with the world-crushing feeling of being inside of him only made him want to go _faster_. He thrusted his hips inside Anakin harder and _harder_ , blissfully listening to the sharp cries of pleasure echoing from the seventh year. 

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin cried out, his cock throbbing in Obi-Wan’s hand as he lost all control and couldn’t keep himself from coming anymore. Hot come leaked out of the seventh year as his brain turned to static. He’d never felt anything so good in his entire life. Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s body shudder in pleasure as the seventh year continued to call out for him. 

It was more than enough. 

Hearing Anakin call out his name broke Obi-Wan as he, too, felt himself spill out inside of the seventh year. Obi-Wan did his best to pull himself out of Anakin, the rest of his come spilling out on his back. He dug his fingers into Anakin’s bare skin and knew that there was no better feeling than this, being so close to him. 

Anakin slowly laid down, his bare back on the cold ground as Obi-Wan crawled on top of him. The young professor, with a flick of his wand, summoned a blanket and draped it across their bodies, wanting to savor the moment with Anakin as long as he could. Anakin struggled to catch his breath as Obi-Wan took a thumb to his cheek and rubbed circles into his skin. They laid there, for a moment in a peaceful science, when Anakin remembered how pretty Obi-Wan looked watching the sky.

“I see you, in the stars,” Anakin said, “I looked for you every day when you were gone.” He sighed, sweat from sex with Obi-Wan dripping down the back of his neck, “there is never a moment where I am not looking for you.”

Obi-Wan reached his hand up and placed it on top of Anakin’s, lightly pressing his wrist into the ground as he sewed their fingers together. Anakin pressed his other hand through Obi-Wan’s hair, bringing his head down onto his for a long kiss, their teeth knocking together from smiling. 

Anakin remembered how deeply it hurt to exist in a world without Obi-Wan as he reveled in the bliss of his bare skin. The enchanting and devastating feeling of being alone with the love of his life, he felt, was all he truly needed to survive.

 _You’re brighter than the stars, I should tell you_ , Anakin thought, _I’d marry you right now if you asked me._

“You should rest, you know,” Obi-Wan commented, his need for Anakin ringing through his every word as though he couldn’t help it. Anakin pulled him down for another kiss, “I love you, _and_ I’m your professor,” he submitted to the force of Anakin as the seventh year managed his tongue between Obi-Wan’s lips. Anakin took a sharp breath of air into the kiss, he’d forgotten how easy it was for Obi-Wan to render him breathless. 

_Ask me._

“That means you have to listen to me,” Obi-Wan whispered, kissing the side of Anakin’s mouth, his jaw, and a long, soft one on his neck. He rolled his index finger down Anakin’s neck, smiling brightly and deviously, “I demand you get some sleep.”

“You know I do everything you ask me to,” Anakin replied, flicking his fingers through Obi-Wan’s messy hair, unable to take his eyes off his skin, his smile. Obi-Wan kissed him once more before sitting up and gathering his clothing. Anakin continued to lay there, knowing very well he could stare at Obi-Wan the entire night.

_I want to only walk in the spaces you’ve stepped first._

Anakin stood up, gathered his possessions, and located the cloak of invisibility. He pressed Obi-Wan against a wall, abundantly aware of just how much taller than him he was.

“One more,” he said, rolling a thumb on Obi-Wan’s jaw and kissing him. “I could pick you up and carry you away, that means you have to listen to me.” 

Obi-Wan laughed into Anakin’s mouth as he kissed back. They’d spent so much time just kissing each other.

“One more,” Anakin whispered as he watched Obi-Wan close his eyes and sink into him, letting Anakin kiss him harder. 

“ _One more_ ,” Anakin asked, barely able to catch his breath as he began to grow dizzy. He pressed a hand onto the wall behind Obi-Wan’s head, cornering the young professor. Obi-Wan continued to kiss him, deeply, as much as time would allow, obeying Anakin’s every request. He slid his bones into the seventh year’s like a jigsaw puzzle, knowing all the well that there would be _far more_ than one more kiss.

Anakin, all the while, couldn’t quite comprehend how lucky he was to exist in the same age as Obi-Wan. 

He was sure this wasn’t the first lifetime he’d spent loving Obi-Wan. 

Perhaps they’d lived in grand castles like kings, traveled worlds, and fought wars together. Kissing Obi-Wan showed him how it felt to be part of a love that was decades-long, centuries old. He’d loved Obi-Wan all his life and for every lifetime, certain that this one would not be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I owe everything to the people who have commented, read, and left kudos. I'm feeling emotional as the end of this fic looms in the distance. Thank you endlessly for reading, leave a comment if you'd like :) 
> 
> -Annie
> 
> stanakin96.tumblr.com


	19. Libertango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin makes a troubling discovery about the Horcruxes and spends one last night with Obi-Wan before the final Triwizard task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (re upload bc of editing mistakes (do not edit tipsy I'm serious))
> 
> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> song inspo: libertango - astor piazzolla

Anakin’s head pounded against his skull like a marble in a drum. 

“ _Try again._ ” 

“It hurts,” he replied, a bead of sweat dripping down his head as he looked up at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, who were standing next to him. 

“The more we can figure out whoever is inside your mind, the sooner we can take care of it,” Qui-Gon said. They were training him in a kind of magic he’d never done before. All in an effort to bring him closer to the dark magic that seemed to surround him, he needed to be able to return to _exactly_ how he’d felt the night he'd almost killed Obi-Wan.

“Are there any markers? Distinct memories of that night?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice softer and more soothing than Qui-Gon’s. Anakin thought back to the pinch of the shards of glass at the bottom of his feet and the smell of his own blood dragging along the Hogwarts corridors. 

“My blood, when I broke the trophy case,” he replied, his teeth grinding together just to get the words out. Obi-Wan broke through the dark feeling, his voice warm and soothing, though he was asking him to do a request that would be quite the opposite.

“You need to remember,” he asked, coolly, as though it were a simple task. Anakin needed to remember so that Qui-Gon could pry into his thoughts. Legilimacy, he’d called it. 

Something about someone poking around in his head and rearranging all his thoughts like food at the dining table was disquieting to the seventh-year.

Nevertheless, Anakin closed his eyes, knowing deep in his gut that he’d do anything Obi-Wan asked of him.

“What did it feel like?” Qui-Gon asked as Anakin prepared the walls of his mind to be taken down. He visualized them like cages to which his Transfigurations professor held the rusty key. Anakin focused on the memory, so that when he opened his eyes, he was back to the night of the Imperius curse, standing over hundreds of shards of glass. 

_Good_ , he heard Qui-Gon say.

Anakin took one step forward, forcing himself to feel the glass in the arch of his foot. He hissed as it ran into him like he’d lit a small fire and was walking through it. It felt exactly how it did that night, as the walls around him began to shift from the Astronomy tower to Hogwarts late at night.

Anakin stepped on another shard, despite how much he knew it would hurt. It cut into him as he watched a small pool of blood form beneath his feet. The smell made him nauseous, strong like galleons and burned wood. He watched as the red reached his toes and spread to his other foot when he felt Qui-Gon kick down one of his mental cages. Anakin shot back, the force of the older wizard painful and strong.

 _Very good_ , Qui-Gon said, _keep going_.

Anakin kept walking as he did that night, dragging streaks of blood over the floor as he stepped on the remaining glass. It was more blood than before, _far_ more.

He fought to let Qui-Gon in, but felt himself growing dizzy, the loss of blood getting to his head. Anakin felt his heart race as he fell into a panic. He brought his hands to his face and took in. a sharp breath when he saw they were cut all over, as though he’d touched the glass with them too. Blood seeped out of every slice; Anakin opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. 

_That’s enough,_ Qui-Gon said, his voice raised, and hands placed on Anakin’s shoulders.

Suddenly, he was back at the Astronomy tower. He searched for Obi-Wan, who had immediately taken to his side as he felt his body try to sink to the floor. As usual, Obi-Wan promptly caught him. Much to Anakin’s surprise, so did Qui-Gon.

“Obi-Wan, may I have a word with Anakin?” Qui-Gon asked as Anakin managed to get back on his feet. Anakin knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t want to leave him but was far too polite to say anything else. He appeared to trust Qui-Gon as much as he trusted him, if not more. 

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin for any signal of approval that he would be okay without him. Anakin quickly nodded, though he didn’t totally want to. He felt a specific kind of hole in his stomach as Obi-Wan softly dragged his hand down Anakin’s robes, his fingers lightly tapping his as he let go of him and walked down the stairs. Qui-Gon waited until he couldn’t hear Obi-Wan’s footsteps anymore.

“I’m afraid that I couldn’t see who exactly cast your Imperius curse, however,” Qui-Gon said, his voice soft and forlorn, “I did feel the presence of something incredibly dark, something I haven’t felt in years.” 

Anakin looked down at his shoes, sure that Qui-Gon was about to say it was all in his head, or that the attacks at the Triwizard tournament were simply coincidences.

“Do you know of Horcruxes?” Qui-Gon asked, to which Anakin visibly replied. He felt his body cave in as he thought back to his meeting in the Headmaster’s office. _Why had he been so persistent in telling him about Horcruxes?_

“I do,” Anakin replied, carefully choosing each word.

“If we can locate all of them, we can find a way to find this dark wizard. I will help you find them, but whoever this is, knows you are close with him-“

Qui-Gon motioned to the door that Obi-Wan had walked out of but moments ago. 

“He _will_ go after him,” Qui-Gon said, so sad, yet so sure. 

“We both want to keep him safe,” Qui-Gon said, the kindness of his voice veiling what Anakin could only assume was a threat. Seldom had he gone a moment in the past year where his primary thought was not keeping Obi-Wan _safe_.

“That’s all I want,” Anakin replied, wondering how easily he was baring his soul for the Transfigurations professor. Anakin didn’t want to exist in a world without Obi-Wan, and for whatever reason, he knew that Qui-Gon Jinn felt the same way. Anakin had half a mind to ask about his past with Obi-Wan, now was a better time than he’d ever have with Qui-Gon. Though, he found, the number of rooms he found himself alone with the mysterious long-haired wizard had rapidly increased as the weeks went by.

-

Anakin woke in Obi-Wan’s office, he’d recognize the feeling of his bare back on the rough carpet anywhere. Although, he had no memory whatsoever of getting there. He sat up and listened to the sounds of soft pops in his back from sleeping. However, when he rose, he quickly realized that everything in Obi-Wan’s office was different. 

“Hello?” Anakin whispered, his voice catching on his throat, dry with sleep. Every light in the office was turned off and there wasn’t an enchanted candle in sight. He moved toward Obi-Wan’s desk, which was now covered with a long black sheet that made it look like a shadow. Suddenly, he heard a sharp voice echo through his mind.

_Do you know the tragedy of Lord Plagueis, Anakin?_

Anakin stopped in place and looked around the room for what was undeniably Headmaster Palpatine’s voice. 

“Headmaster?” Anakin cried out, desperate to ignore the sliver of dark magic that perforated the room. The voice continued until it was a sort of hiss, which Anakin translated immediately. Anakin could practically see the snake in the room as he listened through its Parseltongue. He could imagine it perfectly, its small yellow eyes laughing at him, staring at him.

_Killing rips the soul apart._

Anakin shot back in Parseltongue, not knowing all together what he’d said to the voice.

_To Palpatine?_

His world began to take a yellow tint as the voice grew louder. Anakin felt a strong bolt of energy surge from a small object in the middle of Obi-Wan’s desk. Desperate to know if it was the object causing him to feel like this, Anakin quickly moved in front of it, so quickly it felt as though he’d ran, _slithered_. 

He looked down at the small object, when he was greeted by an image of himself. His eyes looked _different_ , golden and with jet-black slits for irises. This wasn’t him. Anakin raised his hand to slap the mirror away when he recognized the jagged edges as none other than the knife he’d seen in Palpatine’s office. He’d seen his reflection in the blade. As though the blade was speaking to him, small echoes of what sounded like Obi-Wan’s voice began to seep out of it. He was calling for help, Anakin realized. His cries burned through Anakin’s ears like the room had caught on fire.

Anakin aggressively smacked the weapon off the table and cut his hand in the process. He hissed as he curled his fingers and wrapped them around his palm to possibly slow the bleeding. As giant clots began to dirty his fingernails, he found himself dizzy and fell to the floor. _What does it mean?_ He began to think, when he caught the silver reflection of the knife. 

It was Palpatine’s prized possession, he’d never let Anakin touch it, Anakin had never seen him wield it for that matter, either.

_Imagine if one could harness such a power._

Anakin looked at the knife as a pool of blood began to form underneath his body and the weapon. They were disappearing at the same time, fading away as objects and into liquid. Anakin felt as the life in the small object began to slip away. For whatever reason, he began to feel himself slip along with it.

He woke up covered in sweat, terrified to the point where he wasn’t even screaming, just breathing as though his lungs were being folded into a small letter. He quickly dressed and ran down the professor’s chambers, a small sun rising through the stain-glass windows. He cursed the sun for having the nerve to rise when his entire world was falling apart. He couldn’t believe it was the _Headmaster_ , he couldn’t believe what he’d _done to him._

“I know where the Horcruxes are,” he said, voice panting after running down the corridor. It didn’t take much to interpret what he’d seen in his dream; his eyes in the reflection of the blade, the blood that came from both him and the weapon the moment he’d grabbed the hilt. He knew what he had to do. _Anything to protect Obi-Wan._

Qui-Gon, who appeared to have been awake the entire night, looked at him with a pair of sad eyes, far sadder than they usually looked. Undoubtedly, he’d been watching Anakin’s dream along with him.

“I’m afraid I do, too.”

-

“It looks just like the night of the Yule Ball,” Obi-Wan remarked as Anakin pulled the smaller man in by his waist. Anakin had instructed him to meet in the Room of Requirement, though it was all just an elaborate rouse to get time alone with Obi-Wan. The third and final task of the Triwizard tournament was tomorrow, and Anakin wanted to spend every moment that he could with Obi-Wan. After everything they'd been through, and warnings from Qui-Gon concerning Anakin's safety at the task, all he wanted was to touch him.

Obi-Wan wore a black sweater with a small v-neck, grey sneakers, and tight-fitting jeans. If Anakin blurred his eyes just slightly, it was almost as though he was looking at a 17-year-old Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan softly placed his hands out on Anakin’s chest, spreading his fingers out wide like a house cat.

“I wanted it that way,” Anakin said, running two fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair. He didn’t usually feel so much taller than him, but in the pale, hazy tint of what felt like their final night together made him feel much taller. "Seeing as it is my last night, before everything."

Obi-Wan rocked onto his tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on Anakin’s temple. He took his hands and brought Anakin to the middle of the Room of Requirement. The sounds of a soft, lone violin began to pluck in the background as Anakin remembered back to the night of the Yule Ball.

“May I?” Obi-Wan asked, offering his palm to Anakin. A cello followed the violin, creating a soft song. The violin sounded like a woman singing, Anakin thought. Memories of Obi-Wan in his formal robes, hair short and neat began to floor Anakin’s mind. He took the young professor’s hand.

“I’m sure I’m not nearly the dancer you must be, Professor,” he replied, a faint smile beginning to line his lips. Obi-Wan quietly laughed at Anakin’s response before wrapping his arm around his waist and taking a step forward. Anakin took a step back, mirroring their movements from the night of the Yule Ball with ease. He’d memorized every step, he thought about dancing with Obi-Wan almost endlessly.

“If anything happens to me tomorrow,” Anakin said through the sound of his and Obi-Wan’s shoes lightly clicking on the ground.

“Nothing will happen to you tomorrow-“ Obi-Wan interrupted, they continued dancing.

“You and Qui-Gon together, thinking you can protect me from the very thing I was born to do,” Obi-Wan smiled, “as if I can’t see right through the two of you.”

“What were you born to do?” Anakin asked, letting Obi-Wan pull him closer. They were only inches apart, yet the only part of their bodies that touched were their hands as they continued to waltz forward and backward. 

“To teach you,” Obi-Wan replied, softly, “to keep you safe.”

Heat pooled up in Anakin’s eyes and cheeks as he moved his hands to Obi-Wan’s face, cupping his jaw in his fingers. He pressed his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, who slowly and confidently ran his fingers up to Anakin’s large hands. He smiled as he felt the bump of Anakin’s enchanted ring, the very one that matched his. 

“You are strong and wise, Anakin,” the young professor, who did not feel so young in Anakin’s arms anymore, warmly kissed him. “And I am very proud of you.”

Anakin, who felt a surge of warmth and light enter his body as though it was the first time Obi-Wan had kissed him, smiled and looked down at the ground. Their dancing slowed until they simply held each other, lovingly suspended in one moment of time. If Anakin closed his eyes, he was back to a few months ago; when all he was concerned about was Obi-Wan liking Satine Kyrze more than him. 

He knew what the future held as he danced with Obi-Wan. Doing his best not to dwell too intently on what he’d have to do the following day, Anakin focused on the only few words he could say to Obi-Wan without telling him _everything_. They felt like the only right words to say in such a moment, knowing what he knew about the Horcruxes.

_I love you; I’ll miss you._

“Kiss me again,” Anakin whispered, catching a glimpse of his ice-blue eyes. They were so beautiful they made him dizzy. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them too long, he’d imagine how they’d look at him if he told him the truth, the _whole_ truth. Obi-Wan, once again, rocked onto his toes and kissed Anakin.

“I don’t want to talk about Horcruxes or the tournament tonight, I just want to be with you,” Anakin whispered, kissing into Obi-Wan with every syllable. It was all true. He dug his fingers harder into Obi-Wan’s skin as a means to keep him from shaking. Obi-Wan would be able to see through him in a moment if he let the mask slip off. Obi-Wan _couldn’t_ know it would be the last time he’d likely ever see him.

“That’s alright, darling,” Obi-Wan replied, softly placing a gentle hand on the side of Anakin’s cheek and rubbing his face with his fingers. He reached up to kiss him again, softly, when Anakin deepened it. He pried open Obi-Wan’s lips with his tongue and began to run his fingers up and down his back, desperate to feel any inch of Obi-Wan’s skin. 

If Anakin couldn’t trust himself to let words speak for him, then he’d let his actions tell what he wanted to say.

Obi-Wan breathed heavily into Anakin, who immediately recognized the shakiness of his breath. It was how he sounded when he _wanted_ him. It was enough to drive Anakin crazy, as the seventh-year curled his fingers into Obi-Wan’s clothing, desperately wishing he could rip them off. Obi-Wan let out a quiet whimper into Anakin’s lips, something he’d not often heard, as the roles were typically reversed. 

Anakin couldn’t deny that it was nice, knowing that just by kissing and touching Obi-Wan, he’d pulled a small moan from his lips.

Remembering that there was a loveseat in the corner of the room, Anakin wrapped his arms around the back of Obi-Wan’s legs and lifted him. Obi-Wan, without having to ask, straddled Anakin midair, continuing to kiss him as Anakin walked quickly to the sofa.

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan whispered as Anakin sat down on the sofa, his legs still wrapped around his hips. 

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin replied, licking into Obi-Wan’s mouth with every syllable. Something about not knowing his certain fate made him undeniably unhinged when it came to seducing his boyfriend, he’d noticed. Anakin dug his fingers into Obi-Wan’s thighs and pulled him closer, making it very clear the young professor _would not_ be moving out of his lap for the time being. Obi-Wan appeared to be incredibly receptive to being treated in such a way as he rocked into Anakin’s hips, his cock rock-hard through his pants. Anakin hissed at the mere thought of it.

“Something wrong, darling?” Obi-Wan teased as he moved his fingers down to the button of his pants, properly regaining his undeniable control over Anakin. One hand wrapped around Obi-Wan’s hard cock was enough to remind Anakin of how it felt _inside_ of him, which was undeniably stronger than any Imperius curse.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Anakin managed out, moving his head down to Obi-Wan’s neck, careful to keep a sharp eye on his hands. With one move, Obi-Wan had unzipped his pants and started _jerking himself off_ in front of Anakin. The seventh-year, unable to control his thoughts at such a sight, bit lightly into Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Let me,” Anakin whispered, “please.” 

Obi-Wan motioned Anakin’s face to his lips and kissed him lightly as a means to tease him even more than he already had. Without a second of hesitation, Anakin wrapped his fingers around Obi-Wan’s hard cock, the feeling of it pumping fireworks through his veins. He loudly moaned into Obi-Wan’s mouth as the young professor sneakily carded his hands over Anakin’s cock in return.

As usual, nothing compared to the feeling of Obi-Wan touching him. Anakin breathed into Obi-Wan as he slowly ran his hand up his cock.

“I want you,” Anakin said, mustering all the power inside of him not to simply get on his knees for the young professor. Obi-Wan curled two fingers underneath Anakin’s chin and lifted his face to his.

“Be specific,” he said, now rocking up onto his knees, towering over Anakin, “tell me what you want, darling.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Anakin blurted out, imagining that perhaps the experience would be enhanced if his hands were tied behind his back.

Obi-Wan slid onto his feet in front of Anakin and motioned for him to turn around. Anakin did his best to not be embarrassed by how quickly he got on his knees for Obi-Wan. He let out a quiet moan as he felt Obi-Wan dig his fingers into his hips and his hard cock against his body. Anakin waited as he listened to Obi-Wan cover his cock in lube.

“Where did you get that?” Anakin asked, doing his best not to touch himself.

“Room of Requirement, darling,” Obi-Wan replied, pulling a small smile out of Anakin. In the face of a fate he could not physically imagine, Obi-Wan could always make him laugh.

“You’ll tell me,” Obi-Wan started.

“I’ll tell you if I need you to stop,” Anakin interrupted, placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s, who had still taken a liking to his hips. Anakin opened his mouth to ask Obi-Wan to hurry when he felt him pump a finger inside of his body. 

“ _Obi_ - _Wan_ “ Anakin started, when he felt Obi-Wan slip another finger inside, “ _more_.”

Obi-Wan slid a strong hand over Anakin’s spine, lightly dragging his fingers his body and covering his body in chills.

This was the side of him nobody got to see: Obi-Wan Kenobi, kindhearted Defense Against the Dark arts professor, finger-fucking him into the sofa. Anakin loudly moaned out as Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around his cock.

As though his moaning had inspired him to continue, Obi-Wan slowly pulled his fingers out of Anakin, raking his body with pleasure and anticipation. Anakin arched his back into Obi-Wan, as the young professor, with what felt like expert ease, ran his cock inside of him.

“ _Yes_ ,” Anakin cried out, his entire body whining for Obi-Wan. He’d never needed something so much in his life as he needed him to _keep going_. Obi-Wan continued to softly run his hands all over Anakin as he pushed himself deeper inside his body. Anakin continued calling out for him, his name slipping off his lips as though he didn’t know any words _other_ than his name.

He’d asked for more, and Obi-Wan had given it to him.

With one more push, Obi-Wan had Anakin at his end. With his cock inside of him and his hand wrapped around him, Anakin felt practically helpless. After all his time with Obi-Wan, he thought he’d be able to keep himself from coming after only a few minutes of him touching him. Anakin cried out as he spilled out all over Obi-Wan’s hands and onto the sofa, he was desperately wrong. 

Obi-Wan kissed up Anakin’s back, the places he’d now recognized as his favorites after having Anakin on his hands and knees a few times.

Anakin sat up slowly, even though he’d finished all over Obi-Wan, he wasn’t done with the young professor. He turned around and peeled Obi-Wan’s sweater off, who complied without a second thought. Anakin crawled on top of him, pinning him onto the sofa he’d just been fucked on.

“What next darling?” Obi-Wan asked, as Anakin dragged his lips down his torso and began to lick around his hard cock and wrapping his fingers around it. Obi-Wan let out a soft moan into the echoes of the Room of Requirement, making Anakin wonder why they hadn’t always met up there.

“My turn,” Anakin replied, knowing he’d savor every second of listening to Obi-Wan moan into his mouth. “I love you,” he whispered, scratching up and down the professor’s abs, his thighs; the inches of Obi-Wan he’d grown to think of every single moment of the day. He felt his mind slip back to his dream, his late-night conversation with Qui-Gon, but pushed the thoughts away. He needed to be here tonight, covered in Obi-Wan, giving the young professor something to remember him by.

 _His_ professor. 

At least he was for as long as what Anakin accepted as the last night of his life as he knew it. He placed a warm kiss into Obi-Wan, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do to keep him safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave a comment if you liked it, or a prediction of what you think will happen next! Seriously, I'm emotional about this all coming to an end. Thank you so much for your time!
> 
> Tumblr: stanakin96.tumblr.com


	20. All I Ask of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin destroys the first Horcrux, comes to terms with the second one, and prepares himself for secret goodbyes; all on the morning of the third task of the Triwizard tournament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading <3
> 
> song inspo : all i ask of you - phantom of the opera !!!!  
> (pls listen)

Dying was an incredible mirage of control, Anakin thought.

The morning of the third Triwizard tournament was cold and bright. The sun shined bright in the sky and created a pale yellow that burned like the tip of a flame over Hogwarts. Anakin sat up from his bed and swung his legs over the side, his hips and back still hurting from his night with Obi-Wan.

_Obi-Wan._

Anakin felt his body cave in on itself at the very thought of his friend, his lover. He could imagine exactly how he smelled, the sounds his feet made when they touched the ground. Anakin had known Obi-Wan for what felt like his entire life, yet the thought of the young professor chilled him to the bone. 

He’d been hoarding a terrible secret from him. The act in itself had nearly ripped Anakin to shreds, but it had all been worth it to have one last night with him uninterrupted by the chaos of his own life. Obi-Wan was in danger, Anakin had tried to kill him under the influence of the Imperius Curse, and Qui-Gon was always rambling about visions and feelings he had of the grace danger Obi-Wan was in while Palpatine lived. However, the seventh-year knew exactly how he would save him.

Anakin Skywalker was a Horcrux.

The only person who knew this besides him was Qui-Gon Jinn: an unbeatable Legilimens who understood a great amount about dark magic while never having practiced it himself. It was a tragedy, yet Anakin’s visions of the other Horcrux, a knife, had been undeniable. He watched his life fade away along with it: whatever gods who controlled him could not have made their message clearer. Anakin woke from that dream knowing exactly what it meant, no matter how much he wished he didn’t.

The early sun peaked through the window of his dormitory and laid over his bed like a warm blanket.

Today would be the day they would hunt for the other Horcrux, a small knife Headmaster Palpatine kept in his office. Today would also be the day Anakin would sacrifice himself to destroy the Headmaster, who Qui-Gon had warned him would be at the Third Triwizard Task. Qui-Gon, who often took strolls in the hallways of Anakin’s mind, had persistently been researching ways for the Horcrux to be destroyed without killing Anakin. As Anakin suspected, they always came to no avail. 

Hence the mirage of control; and the odd touch of peace that he touched with his fingers, knowing that the end was only hours away. His death would ensure Obi-Wan’s safety, which was the utmost priority of Anakin’s mind. 

Anakin closed his eyes for a moment and imagined that Obi-Wan was sitting right in front of him. He wore a dark green sweater, oversized jeans and his hair was messy from sleep. Anakin reached his hand over and rubbed circles into his temples with his thumb. Obi-Wan dreamily smiled at him, took his hand, and pressed a warm kiss into his knuckles. Anakin opened his eyes and Obi-Wan was gone. 

Though the thought of him had been strong enough to help him place one foot on the floor, then another. Before he knew it, Anakin had slipped the cloak of invisibility on over his sleeping robes and walked quickly towards Palpatine's office. The Headmaster was usually on a morning walk at this time of the day, Qui-Gon had observed in his early morning meditations.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan would be waiting for him in his office after Anakin had gotten the knife, Qui-Gon had been kind enough to give him the Invisibility cloak, knowing that perhaps someday it would be useful. The Transfigurations professor could never imagine it would be used for such a venture as finding and destroying a Horcrux.

“ _Alohamora_ ” Anakin whispered, pointing his wand to the keyhole of Palpatine’s office. 

Quietly, the door clicked open and Anakin silently made his way in. The shrill of cold air wrapped around Anakin like a blanket as he set a foot forward. There were no candles lit and the windows were blocked out by curtains. He thought Palpatine’s office looked less like a place of study and far more like a dungeon. He looked at the chair that sat in front of his desk, the one he’d occupied for so many afternoons, listening intently to the teachings of who he _thought_ was the greatest wizard at Hogwarts. He ran a finger over the ridge of the chair, remembering what he’d tried diligently to erase.

The knife began to hiss, Anakin found, the closer he approached to it.

He felt quite like the Runespoor task; when the world around him felt difficult to exist in. Everything talked to him, everything touched him. The whizzing of the small knife became so loud it was almost audible through the room as Anakin approached it. He wished Obi-Wan was there, to talk him through what to do. 

Though through the undeniable connection he felt to the small weapon, Anakin had an inkling that this endeavor maybe something he had to do alone. In a way, he felt the same as the hissing Horcrux. They’d both been victims of Palpatine abusing his power. Anakin slowly reached over and touched the small knife. 

However, the moment he wrapped his hand around the hilt, his body shot back and into the floor. Touching the knife as like nothing he’d ever felt before. Suddenly, he could feel every single life that Palpatine had taken. Anakin felt his soul wring out of his body the longer he held it in his hands, as though he’d shed every ounce of blood that Palpatine had. Somehow, he found the strength to stand up, cloak over his head and knife pressed tightly to his chest. 

Running towards the door, he pressed his hands over his ears to block out the screams in terror from every victim of the dagger. 

_Had he killed them with this knife?_ Anakin thought, bursting out of the heavy office door. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to survive much longer in this way, he did his best to rush to Qui-Gon’s office while remaining under the cloak. 

_Only a few more steps_ , he told himself, the overwhelming feeling of darkness surrounding him like his body was the long hand on a clock. He rammed his way through Qui-Gon’s office, where Obi-Wan instinctively caught him as he felt the weight of his body sink to the ground.

“I could feel them-” Anakin said, breathing heavily, “-everyone he killed with it. What dark wizard wouldn’t just use the killing curse?” He managed out, feeling the life return to his body as the knife slipped out of his hands and onto the floor. Obi-Wan dug his fingers into Anakin’s body, holding him upright. Qui-Gon carefully levitated the weapon in the air.

“Only a dark wizard who wanted to know what killing felt like with his own two hands,” he remarked, resting the knife in the middle of the floor.

“Obi-Wan, take him to the other side of the room and use the shield I taught you,” Qui-Gon demanded, Obi-Wan quickly complied. He rested Anakin’s arms on his shoulders and helped him to a small corner of the room, quite far away from Qui-Gon.

“Palpatine underestimates you, Anakin,” Qui-Gon said, closing his eyes and slowly raising both his wand and empty hand in the air, “it will be his downfall”. Obi-Wan quickly cast a protection shield around them.

His eyes still closed, Qui-Gon whispered a few words Anakin had never heard before and unleashed a small flame from his wand. However, the longer Qui-Gon spoke, the larger the flame got. Soon, there was a snake made of flames slithering out of Qui-Gon’s wand, growing larger with every moment. Anakin couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the incredible display of magic.

As though a switch had been flipped, Qui-Gon opened his eyes and began waving his wand and his other arm in the air, controlling the flamed beast that now nearly consumed his office. Qui-Gon’s movements looked like the wizards in Anakin’s textbooks, the ones who’d figured out how to put raw, untamed power to incredible use. The snake hissed a line of flames around the room, nearly getting Obi-Wan and him when Qui-Gon commanded it back to the Horcrux. Anakin could barely make out what the serpent had said to Qui-Gon, only that it was along the lines of a hushed:

_Yes, master._

The knife began to spin in place as the fire from the snake began to light it. The weapon twitched and made loud popping sounds the longer the snake surrounded it. Anakin watched as the reflection of the fire bore cracks into the blade. With one more shout from Qui-Gon, the knife had been destroyed. A loud cracking sound boomed through the office, nearly shattering the windows. 

Anakin watched as Qui-Gon placed a steady hand on the mouth of the snake, lovingly pressing his fingers onto it with no fear of burning himself. Obi-Wan retracted the protection spell as the serpent sank back into Qui-Gon’s wand. Obi-Wan helped Anakin back on his feet as they approached the ashes of the knife.

“It’s gone?” Anakin asked, making sure.

“Fiendfyre is one of the only known spells that can destroy a Horcrux,” Obi-Wan replied, staring at the small pile, wondering how something so small could provide such darkness. As though Qui-Gon had not summoned a huge, fire-created serpent that nearly destroyed his office, he began searching for something in his robe.

“I have something for you,” Qui-Gon said, the three of them coming down from the intensity of destroying the knife. He reached into his robe and picked out a small, dark vial. Anakin took it and observed it, never having been one for potions, he couldn’t identify it.

“It’s a potion Aurors take in the field for strength, I’m hoping it will have some hand in protecting you. He is well on our trail by now.” Said Qui-Gon, his voice even and low. 

Anakin knew there wasn’t anything that could protect him from death while destroying Palpatine’s Horcrux at the same time but appreciated the sentiment that the Transfigurations professor offered. He slipped the small bottle into his pocket and thanked him. Qui-Gon had never been in support of Anakin’s plan to sacrifice himself in the name of destroying Palpatine, but it appeared as though the older wizard had finally accepted what needed to be done.

Dying was an incredible mirage of control, Qui-Gon Jinn thought. 

-

As Anakin rushed down the corridor he noticed many Hogwarts students out of their bed after the noise the Horcrux had made after Qui-Gon had destroyed. His mind briefly went to Poe, Rey, and Finn. How they made him feel, their support before Obi-Wan had come back into his life. However much he wanted to tell them, _say goodbye to them_ , he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the sadness of it all.

“Stop right there, Skyguy,” said Poe, ripping the cloak of invisibility off his head, tugging on a few tufts of his hair.

"How did you-“ Anakin started, confused. Poe rolled his eyes.

“There was a loud noise over here, I knew it had to be you, and you’re dragging soot everywhere you go” Poe whispered, throwing the cloak back at Anakin, “are you making a run for it? You look weird.”

Anakin swallowed hard, quickly shoving his bruised hand into his robe and turning towards Poe. One wrong move and the Gryffindor would see right through him. 

“No,” he started, turning around to face him, “I’m fine.”

Poe lifted his arm and put a soft hand on Anakin’s shoulder, lightly digging his fingers into his robe, the one he’d slept in. “You know, you can talk to me,” Poe said, concerned. 

_I wish I could_ , Anakin thought, knowing that to tell Poe about the Horcruxes or the inevitability of Palpatine’s attack would only put him in further danger. Without warning, Poe pulled him into a strong hug.

Anakin awkwardly wrapped his arms around Poe’s back. The only people he’d ever hugged were Obi-Wan and Padmé, both had been shorter and smaller than him. Poe was different, his back was tougher, and Anakin didn’t have to bend down to touch him. The moment Anakin began to sink into the hug, Poe pulled away.

“I’ll see you at the task, okay? Go back to sleep.”

As though Anakin needed a reminder of why he was doing any of this, why he was hours away from sacrificing himself to the person he’d once considered a friend, Poe instilled a new line of hope. Poe, Padmé, Rey, Finn, Qui-Gon, _Obi-Wan_.

He would do it for them.

Absolutely anything for them.

-

“Tell me what's wrong,” Obi-Wan said, cupping Anakin’s face in his hands and pressing his fingers into his hair. As per their ritual, they'd met at the edge of the forbidden forest to speak one last time before the start of a Triwizard task. Anakin wanted nothing more than to melt into his touch, he was incredibly poor at hiding from Obi-Wan.

“I’m just nervous,” Anakin replied, kissing the side of Obi-Wan’s mouth. He couldn’t fathom that this was the last time he’d be holding him, _touching him_. Obi-Wan pulled away from his lips and moved his hands down to the sides of Anakin’s neck, where his skin was fragile to the touch.

“You’ve gotten Palpatine’s Horcrux,” Obi-Wan said, “he’s no longer invincible, we’ve almost won.” 

Anakin smiled weakly and placed a warm kiss onto Obi-Wan’s lips. No matter how much the young professor could turn away from him, Anakin could always pull him back. In a moment, Anakin felt himself remember every time he’d ever kissed Obi-Wan. From torrid meetings in his office to chaste, loving exchanges when they’d first realized they loved each other. 

Anakin’s entire body wished he could go back, remain in that space forever. The times where it felt as though he and Obi-Wan slow danced through the world together- hand in hand in what felt like a forcefield that nobody could touch.

“ _Just kiss me_ ,” Anakin whispered, desperate for what was likely his last interaction with Obi-Wan to last longer than forever, “say you’ll love me.”

Obi-Wan pushed his hands further into Anakin, lightly combing through his hair in a way he knew the seventh-year loved. The tips of his fingernails ran through his hair and lightly down his neck, slowing Anakin’s breath to the point where he could no longer hear his heartbeat.

“I will love you,” Obi-Wan replied, breathless, “every waking moment”. Anakin could taste the smile growing on Obi-Wan’s lips, filling his bones to the brim with gold. Perhaps he’d break and tell Obi-Wan everything and they’d run off into the woods together. They'd be happy, _free_.

But looking at the young professor, kissing and touching his body, there was nothing he’d rather do than keep him safe.

 _I still had so much to say to you_ , Anakin thought.

“You’ll take me to Coruscant after this? The ocean town?” Anakin asked, fighting the tears in his eyes that vowed he’d never see the love of his life again. He remembered their night in the cottage, the first time Anakin thought he was losing Obi-Wan forever. It was real, now.

“Of course, darling,” Obi-Wan replied, moving down to Anakin’s hands and taking his fingers in his. He brought his fists up to his mouth and placed a long kiss on his knuckles, like a knight to royalty. The horns that signaled the beginning of the third Triwizard task blared in the distance, Anakin pulled Obi-Wan in by his shoulders for one final, hard kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered, Obi-Wan smiled.

“I love you too, I’ll see you soon” Obi-Wan replied, trying to hold tight to Anakin’s robes as the young seventh-year slipped out of his fingers.

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin faded into the bright distance of the Triwizard tournament, where hoards of witches and wizards had gathered to watch him. When the time came, he and Qui-Gon would join him in a battle against Palpatine. They would win, Anakin and the world would be safe again as they knew it.

Or so was the plan, Obi-Wan thought. 

However, the young Auror couldn’t help but feel that something peculiar was going on. A small fire starting deep inside the one he loved most. A spark of danger, and something new, surrounding a young Anakin Skywalker.

-

Anakin felt the familiar swell of snow and ice as he stepped out into the field, still unchanged by the gods of the Triwizard tournament. He looked over at Poe and Rey, who appeared as though they were nervous too. The truth hung to the tip of his tongue like fingers on the ledge of a cliff.

“You will have one hour,” said Kylo ( _Ben,_ he reminded himself,) Ren, Qui-Gon Jinn following closely behind him as a tall, grey shadow of magic, Headmaster Palpatine at his side. Ben swallowed hard and looked at Rey, who quickly nodded her head in return. Anakin thought of Obi-Wan.

“This task was designed to push you to your limit,” Qui-Gon said, looking over at Anakin, “make sure you know exactly where that limit lives.”

He said, sure to talk directly at Anakin. His eyes were serious, darker than Anakin had ever seen him. Though they’d only spent a limited amount of time together and had not started as the easiest of friendships, Anakin could sense something different in Qui-Gon. Like he was reciting a secret or winking to him with both eyes open. 

The three older wizards raised their wands into the sky, the middle of them being Headmaster Palpatine, a red tip glowing at the end of his skeleton-white wand. Anakin tried to breathe, though his lungs struggled under the energy of Palpatine. 

Thick slabs of concrete wall crashed down around them; the sound of metal rang through their ears as the sky turned a dark grey. Clangs of chains, handcuffs, and foot traps drowned out the audience. 

The three wizards disappeared in what looked like a cloud of smoke, their robes billowing around them and curtaining their bodies. Anakin got one final glance at Qui-Gon’s eyes before he vanished. Anakin looked at Poe, who appeared to remain in just as much confusion as him. He turned to Rey, who’d already drawn her wand.

“Azkaban,” she whispered, turning to Anakin, her eyes filling to the brim with ambition. Anakin looked around him, the walls and ceiling appeared as though they’d collapse any moment. He could hear the whispers of Dementors in the distance. 

_Azkaban_. 

A perfect place to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the people who read every chapter, you mean the world to me <3 I'd give you all a hug if I could.
> 
> comment if you liked it, *or if you hated it*
> 
> thank you for reading :)
> 
> tumblr: stanakin96.tumblr.com


	21. Arms Tonite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin goes to find Palpatine to sacrifice himself, but meets some friends along the way.
> 
> Poem reference:   
> Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I FINALLY WROTE IT//// tysm for sticking around <3
> 
> song inspo: arms tonite: mother mother

There was no way Anakin could have prepared himself for the way Obi-Wan looked on the day of his graduation. Hogwarts always held a special ceremony for the Seventh years, all of which Anakin had never been in attendance. However, it was Obi-Wan, this time. Leaving him to become surely the best Auror that the academy could imagine, Anakin _had_ to go.

He was in dress robes Anakin had never seen before, tan and white and clinging close to his chiseled body. Obi-Wan, now eighteen years old, stole the eye of every member of the crowd as he rose to the podium as the highest averaging student of his year to give the farewell address to the other Seventh years. 

Obi-Wan’s sleeves were just short enough that Anakin could see the bone of his wrist, he’d grown out his beard and when he opened his mouth, Anakin couldn’t hear a single word. He’d never wanted something so desperately, so deep to his core. He shuffled in his seat next to Padmé, pushing his fingers together and digging into his skin.

“Thank you to the many professors who helped me along the way; Professor Fisto, especially Professor Jinn,” Obi-Wan continued, before Anakin realized he was looking directly at him. Ice blue eyes focused and locked like a dog on its owner.

“Though I’m afraid the greatest lesson I learned at Hogwarts was not one taught through professorship,” Obi-Wan paused, every member of the audience had their eyes glued onto him.

How old and beautiful he looked. 

“I owe my success to the person who stood with me through every late-night revision, every trip to the library, and every failed potions experiment;”

Anakin gulped _, there was no way he was going to say_ _it_.

“We are nothing without the people who care for us, wizard or muggle, I have Anakin Skywalker to thank for that lesson,” he looked at the fourth year, unknowing that he was prodding at the walls of Anakin’s heart with an iron bar. 

Though perhaps the way Obi-Wan was staring at Anakin, there was a chance that the 18-year-old knew exactly what he was doing. Anakin wanted to run onto the stage, take Obi-Wan’s head in his hands and kiss him, _show_ him how incredibly important he was. Had it not been for Padmé sitting right next to him, he imagined, perhaps, he would have.

“A lesson we can only learn through each other,” Obi-Wan continued, “I’ll leave you with a poem from a muggle author who could teach every witch or wizard a thing or two.” 

It felt almost as though Obi-Wan was talking about this exact day, where Anakin, scared into his skin, would give himself Palpatine. “ _Do not go gentle into that good night, old age should burn and rave at close of day;”_

It felt as though Obi-Wan was holding onto Anakin’s fear with every word, his thin fingers wrapped around memories of hunters and Horcruxes that hadn’t existed in their world yet. Perhaps Obi-Wan knew what was yet to come, maybe he felt in his bones, Anakin thought. 

“ _Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”_

-

When Anakin managed to look upon his surroundings, he realized that his wrists were cuffed together. 

Rey and Poe had gone, and he was alone now. Cold sea-spray from the ocean that now surrounded him made its way to his face, shocking him back to life. He remembered what Obi-Wan had taught him about spells he could do without his wand, and quickly broke the chains of his handcuffs. He wasn’t in his regular clothing, that much had been taken from him as well.

“ _Lumos_ ,” Anakin said loudly over the sound of thunder, his wand quickly lit up as he worked his way around his cell. He’d only read and learned about Azkaban in class. He knew that it was a place that would make you question everything you knew about yourself, an attempt to calm only the evilest of Wizards.

“ _Help me Anakin!”_ Cried out a voice distant in the hall. Anakin felt himself grow dizzy as he realized the voice belonged to Padmé. 

“Padmé?” He screamed out into the cell, looking anywhere for a way out and realizing there were none. He looked through the gaping skylight in his cell at a pack of dementors that were quickly approaching him. They were the ones doing this, making him feel this way.

Anakin remembered that dementors had the power to bring bouts of depression to even the strongest of constitution and that they exclusively guarded the prisoners of Azkaban. Anakin shut his eyes and took a deep breath. To find Palpatine, he would need to first survive longer than a few minutes in the third task. He looked out the large hole that showed the sea in front of him as a careless idea popped into his head.

“ _Hurry, Anakin_ ,” he heard his mother say. 

Anakin’s heart melted into his stomach at the sound of her scared voice, though he knew it couldn’t be her. He approached the ledge of his cell and looked down, the cracked walls of the prison utterly unpromising. However, he could feel the cold of dementors in the distance approach him, sliding their bony fingers around his neck, and knew he had to do something. Obi-Wan would kill him for this.

Anakin, unthinking, backed away from the ledge, ran at full speed, and jumped out of the tower.

He let out a sharp yell as he gripped tight to his wand, the harsh wind of enchantments circling him as he plummeted towards the rocky ground. 

“ _Protego!_ ” Anakin shouted, only a moment away from the rocky shore. A large shield produced underneath him and propelled him onto his feet so that he landed upright. His head stung and he felt nauseous from being so dizzy, but he’d managed his way out of his cell. Anakin looked around, desperate to see if either one of his competitors had made it to the shore when he saw a swarm of dementors approach him. 

Before he managed to get a spell out, his mind flew through a series of memories like a videotape. The first time he’d used magic, the first time Obi-Wan kissed him. He’d have to imagine his happiest moment to protect him from the dementors. He ran his thumb over the inside of his ring finger, brushing the ring Obi-Wan had given him. 

As the dementors circled him, he realized why the wraiths guarded evil- they were somehow eviler, themselves. They seemed to exist exclusively in the name of swallowing all that was good. Though Anakin remembered every moment with Obi-Wan, he couldn’t help but feel the incredible dread that consumed him the closer the dementors got. He reached for the potion that Qui-Gon had given him, remembering what he’d said, and took the whole thing. It lasted like honey, he thought.

Anakin had one hundred memories to look back at with the young professor, yet his mind continued to circle back to one in particular. It felt like a soft, grey cardigan wrapped around his body.

_Find our space in the worlds between_

_Nothing can take you away from me_

“E _xpecto Patronum_ !” He cried out to the dementors, the silvery-white of his Patronus escaping from his wand and taking the form of a large wolf. Anakin fell back in the pressure of the spell. At once, everything didn’t feel so dark and the dementors blew away lite shredded curtains, _hundreds_ of them. 

Anakin knew, no matter how strong his spell had been, that there was no way his Patronus alone could have sent them all away. A suspicion that was only confirmed by the small, white Patronus of a fox standing next to his.

-

“Why did you think you could keep it from me? Anakin, a Horcrux?” Obi-Wan asked, practically gasping through all his words and pinning his fingers into Qui-Gon’s robes. He’d never felt so angry in his life, nonetheless at Qui-Gon, who raised his hands in submission.

“After everything we’ve been through?” Obi-Wan asked, unrelenting tears pilling through in his eyes as he pushed the older man back, shocked at his strength against him.

“Obi-Wan look at me,” Qui-Gon said, soft eyes now hard like knives, “I have a plan.”

-

Anakin felt the presence of Palpatine grow stronger by the moment once he realized that Obi-Wan’s Patronus was standing next to him. It was as though the light and purity of the small fox triggered the deep, filthy evil that lied within the Headmaster. 

Anakin looked as another Patronus, a large stag that he’d never seen before, step next to Obi-Wan’s. The remaining dementors were blasted away; their dark, hooded heads pushing against the orb of protection as though Anakin were surrounded by an invisible dome. He watched, paralyzed to the ground, as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon approached him.

“You told him?” Anakin blurted out; his anger more palpable than he’d expected at Qui-Gon.

“I realized myself, honestly you should never try to keep things from me,” Obi-Wan said, his Patronus quickly circling his ankles before settling next to Qui-Gon’s stag. Anakin opened his mouth to argue back, to say anything, when the sharp pain of Palpatine’s presence stung all around his body. He quickly wrapped his arms around his stomach and lurched forward.

 _...Head of Slytherin house, time to realize who you are_ … 

Palpatine’s words rattled in Anakin’s brain. He was getting closer with every moment. Qui-Gon rushed to his side, no doubt hearing exactly what Anakin had.

“You need to go, Obi-Wan,” Anakin choked out, the pressure of the pain in his body keeping him from getting out coherent sentences. Obi-Wan pressed forward, the presence of his body getting closer to Anakin’s making his mind reel. Anakin felt the potion begin to work, as he managed to stand up straight. 

_...Skywalker…don't you want to keep him safe…?_

Anakin gulped and looked over at Obi-Wan. He could see where the paths diverged, the two worlds he’d choose between. It felt all too tempting, the idea of a Horcrux, what Palpatine had told him about keeping the young professor safe. 

But looking at Obi-Wan, his hair peeking over his face, his lean muscles underneath a tight sweater, the answer was obvious. It hurt his hands, how much Anakin loved him.

“I’m not leaving,” Obi-Wan said, pretty eyes firm as he dug his claws deeper into the ground. Anakin, surrounded by dementors, moments away from confronting Palpatine, could think of nothing more than leaning down and kissing the young professor. He looked over at Qui-Gon and nodded. 

For a moment, Anakin Skywalker forgot that he was a Horcrux. He was protected by a stag and a fox, Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan, they’d figure out a way to destroy it without him having to die. He’d graduate and Obi-Wan would hold his hand. They’d be together until time ended.

“Stop bickering boys,” Palpatine said, creeping through the shadows like an insect, “is it me you’re fighting over?”

“Leave them alone,” Anakin barked, “it’s me you want, isn’t it?”

Anakin went over the plan in his head once more, what he’d drilled down into sharp points every night since he discovered he was a part of Palpatine. 

Palpatine would never destroy his Horcrux, which meant he wouldn’t risk Anakin’s life in the slightest. But he’d go for Qui-Gon, undoubtedly. The Transfigurations Professor seemed to be the only wizard at Hogwarts who made the headmaster shuffle in his seat. Anakin would give himself over when the moment was right.

“Both professors wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” The Headmaster replied, slowly pulling out his wand and petting it with long fingers like one would a purring cat.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan raised their wands at the headmaster, the two of them immediately taking the defensive for the seventh year.

“Crawl back to where you came from, Palpatine,” Obi-Wan growled, his voice low and dark in a way Anakin had never anticipated he would hear. 

Anakin felt the swarm of darkness circle in on them, the dread not unlike a dementor. 

He looked over to see where the Patronuses were defending them, and he knew that the darkness came from no other than Palpatine. By simply being in his presence, he’d elicited a feeling akin to the dementor’s kiss. Anakin stood, feet glued to his spot, as a gross, consuming feeling surrounded them. The moment was coming. Fast.

“Come here, Anakin,” Palpatine said, reaching out a wrinkled, veiny hand to his left. Anakin, using what Qui-Gon had taught him, told the Transfigurations Professor that the plan was underway using the pathways of his mind. Anakin couldn’t bear to look at Obi-Wan as he stepped closer to the headmaster, he could only imagine the kind of betrayal that painted his face, that squeezed the blood out of his heart.

“Raise your wand, Anakin,” demanded Palpatine, his bone-like wand pointed at Qui-Gon, “allow me to show you how to make a Horcrux.”

 _I love you_ , Anakin said through his mind to Obi-Wan. He couldn’t tell if the young professor was blocking out his thoughts, but desperately wished he wasn’t. Anakin was about to die, he needed the one he loved to know he loved him.

“ _Avada Kada_ -“

Suddenly there was a blast of green, like lightening if lightning could be such a color, and Anakin jumped in the line of fire. It almost felt relieving, he thought, to be so close to what he’d wondered about for so long. For Obi-Wan. For Qui-Gon. Poe.

The bolt cut him in the middle of his stomach, but spread all over the air and shot Anakin to the ground. A ringing sound pumped through his ears as the green lightning burned through the sand like foam from a wave crashing. 

Something had gone terribly wrong. 

Anakin’s back cracked and popped on the rocky shore and he could taste blood and saltwater seeping through the his throat from where he’d broken his nose. He looked over to his side, his eyes rolling from the knockback. _What had he done?_

He could feel death around him, whirling like a cloud of dust he couldn’t see through. He heard the loud crash of another body hitting the ground. 

_Palpatine had gotten Obi-Wan_ , he was sure of it.

Anakin clenched his fist together, digging his fingers deep into the skin of his palm and rubbing against the cold of his ring. Obi-Wan’s words fumbled around in his brain like a song stuck in his head. _In the space between._

_What had Obi-Wan said? At graduation?_

It was a dissonant chord and the sound of owls screeching in their cages. 

_Rage. Rage._

He couldn’t go on without Obi-Wan. Anakin writhed in pain and wished that the spell would go ahead and take him as darkness began to close in and cold drops of rain kissed his face.

Blood began to seep from where Anakin’s fingernails dug into his skin as he felt his soul tear out of his body. He watched as darkness crowned over his eyes, slipping him out of a world he didn’t want to exist in. Anakin searched for Obi-Wan, any sight of him, when what seemed like nighttime finally caged him. Like a trapped bird. 

Anakin echoed the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice in his mind when he jumped in front of Palpatine’s spell, how loudly he yelled. He wondered if Qui-Gon was alive, if anybody was, as the world faded away. 

Wanting it to be the last thing he felt in this life, he rubbed the inside the small ring Obi-Wan had given him. Hot blood rolled down his throat, tears pooled in his closing eyes, and Anakin Skywalker wondered what magic could save them, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly thank you so much for reading and sticking around, leave a comment <3
> 
> stanakin96.tumblr.com
> 
> this chap is dedicated to r_entboy and kinotachibana <3 thank u for inspiring me <3


	22. Farewell/Light of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the light of a sacrifice made by a loved one, Anakin has his final standoff with Palpatine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to:
> 
> Light of love – Florence + the machine  
> Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows  
> SW: The Phantom Menace  
> SW: The Empire Strikes Back
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!!!

When Anakin Skywalker woke up, he soon realized he was in a place he’d never been to. The walls around him were a pale white, and unlike anything he’d ever seen before. His body no longer ached with the force of the hard ground of Azkaban, his chest didn’t lurch for all that he had lost and failed to deliver. He was weightless, existing like a sliver of air or water. The Horcrux that once lived inside of him was gone.

 _Where am I?_ He thought to himself, not saying a word out loud.

 _The space between_ , he heard a voice say; recognizable, deep. Sending warm waves of familiarity down his spine. He stood up to meet Qui-Gon’s face. He wore tan and white robes, and his hair was long and brushed.

“Am I dead?” Anakin asked, afraid for the answer. Qui-Gon quietly laughed, his voice kingly and soothing, Anakin imagined it might be how a lion would sound. 

“Not quite,” Qui-Gon beckoned his hand to the walls, “look at where you are.”

Anakin turned his head and squinted his eyes, small visions of objects appearing before him. First, an old grandfather clock. Then, a lit fireplace, the smell of parchment, a grey cardigan on the back of an empty chair. 

“I’m in Obi-Wan’s office,” he said, running his finger over the whiteish apparition of his desk, Anakin felt his heart drop. “But where’s Obi-Wan?” 

Qui-Gon walked over to Anakin and sat down on the desk so that he no longer towered over the seventh year. “Hogwarts, likely wondering where we are.” 

Anakin swallowed hard, taking in long, stuttering breaths. 

“He’s alive?” Anakin asked, smiling. As though the fear had been leeched from his body, he let his entire body sink into a long sigh. Obi-Wan’s safety was all he’d wanted, even if it had meant leaving him in this world. A warm and comfortable silence filled the room like pattering sparks. Anakin ran his fingers through clean, soft hair.

“What’s next?” He asked, unsure that any other words would fit the occasion.

Qui-Gon smiled at Anakin, his new robes making him look like the wizards he’d read about in books. Or solemn, quiet portraits that lined the walls of Hogwarts.

“You go back,” said the transfigurations professor, smiling back at the boy.

“Go back?” Anakin asked, confused. He shook his head, “but we’re-”

“I am, you are not yet,” Qui-Gon interrupted.

_Gone, I am gone, you are not yet._

Anakin Skywalker, smart as he was, felt the tiny pieces of memory fill him up like a mirror. Suddenly, he remembered Qui-Gon jumping in front of him and Obi-Wan; taking Palpatine’s killing curse. His tall, statue-like body had fallen to the ground. It made a loud and impossible noise that echoed throughout Hogwarts and would never stop echoing.

“I-“ Anakin started, “I don’t understand.”

“You understand more than you think, would you have done the same for Obi-Wan?” 

“Of course, I love him,” Anakin replied.

“And is love not enough?” Qui-Gon asked, his words felt ancient and sacred, “is it not more powerful than you and I? Than any magic?”

A small vision, as though Anakin was looking through a pensive, projected onto the blank wall in front of him. It was Obi-Wan, covered in blood and dirt, rising to his feet and taking up his wand. Anakin’s heart pounded in his ears at the very sight of him, how beautiful he was.

“How could you do something like this?” Anakin asked, looking over at the older wizard, knowing that they only had a matter of minutes left as the color began to return to the white room. 

“Gladly,” Qui-Gon replied, “I did it gladly.”

Anakin let out a sad, choked laugh. He needed to get to Hogwarts, defeat Palpatine. The walls around him had already begun to fade away, like age on the corners of old photographs.

“I can’t come back without you,” he said to Qui-Gon, who stood up next to him, beginning to fade away as well, “I can’t tell Obi-Wan you’re gone.”

“You can’t stop the change any more than you can stop the suns from setting,” Qui-Gon replied, in earnest, love touching every syllable. 

Anakin felt warm tears fill his eyes – the dangerous and fleeting feeling of unabridged hope surrounding him. He could feel the salt of the ocean fill his nose, and the wind of the courtyard hitting his arms. 

“Thank you, Qui-Gon,” he said, but the transfigurations professor was gone. 

Anakin was laying back on the ground, the sky above him dark. He could feel Palpatine’s evil presence like a serpent hiding in the grass, going straight for Obi-Wan, towards the light. Qui-Gon’s sacrifice would not be done in vain, not while he had any say. 

Suddenly, Anakin felt the strength to pick up his wand.

-

Burdened by the impossible weight of grief, Obi-Wan pressed on. He would not let himself look at the cold, lifeless bodies of the people he loved most in the world, gone on the wet sand. The fight was not over, no matter how much it felt like it was. If he let himself think about losing Qui-Gon and Anakin long enough he would let Palpatine take him, too.

“This isn’t over Palpatine,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, knowing that the dark wizard would be able to hear him. All that existed between the two of them were soft, lapping waves. 

Palpatine’s jaundiced, yellow eyes leered at him like an angry animal, when they suddenly faded into softness, the dark wizard began to back away from Obi-Wan. He’d never seen the headmaster so frightened.

“There are no more Horcruxes,” said Anakin, his voice light and airy, as though he possessed no fear. Obi-Wan felt his knees go weak, wondering if he was seeing a ghost.

“Let’s finish this, old man,” taunted the seventh year. He turned his gaze towards Obi-Wan. The young professor, shocked and confused, could only think of one thing to say.

“I love you,” his voice didn’t waver. 

_I know_ , Anakin shot back, smiling.

Rolling thunder moved through the beach, surrounding each of them as a reminder of darkness.

“You think Qui-Gon’s insignificant death will save you?” Palpatine spat out, kindling the fire brewing inside of Obi-Wan. “He was always strange, that one. Foolish.”

Obi-Wan dug his fingers into his palm, holding his wand tight in his hands. He looked at Anakin, who he still could not imagine was standing in front of him.

 _Now?_ Obi-Wan asked him, surprised at his use of legilimency. He’d never been able to use it, before.

“You can’t stop me,” Palpatine started, raising his wand in the air, “you’re all just as weak as that old legilimence.”

 _Now_ , Anakin thought.

Without a word exchanged, Anakin and Obi-Wan raised their wands in the air and pointed them at Palpatine. They didn’t need to speak to know what spell to use, either.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” They both shouted, bolts of red shooting out to meet Palpatine’s killing curse halfway. The two spells fought against each other, demanding attention, a resolution. Anakin had to defeat Palpatine, there was no other choice. He could feel the killing curse beating against his, Palpatine’s power almost enough to send him flying back. One slip and it was over. One slip and Qui-Gon’s sacrifice was for nothing.

He closed his eyes and focused on his wand, the power that coursed through it, coming deep from his chest and echoing out into the world. Louder than thunder. Now more powerful than ever in the light of love.

_Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

He pushed harder.

_You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you._

He could feel Obi-Wan with him, as though they were using magic from the very same body.

_You can’t stop the change any more than you can stop the suns from setting._

With a half-smile, Anakin felt the budding power of both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon course through him, sending Palpatine onto his back and his spell retaliated against him. 

Warm rain fell down their faces as the headmaster’s body sank into the ocean. Insignificant, unimportant. As though Anakin was standing next to him, he could feel the fear in Palpatine as his soul left his body. He pushed an inch of magic towards the dying wizard so that he would feel no pain as he passed. 

Exhausted and half-beaten, Anakin sunk to the ground, warm sand pooling underneath his knees. He wished for Qui-Gon, though he couldn’t imagine how it felt to be Obi-Wan. Palpatine was gone, for good, and it was all because of a sacrifice made in secret, in love.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered, sinking into the ground in front of him and cupping his face in his hands. A whisper was all he could manage as small tears fell down his face. Anakin placed shaking hands on top of his, remembering how good it felt to touch the young professor’s skin.

“You did it, darling,” Obi-Wan said, his voice still hushed and shaking, “we’re free.” 

Anakin half-laughed, the semblance of a sob piercing through what could have been a giggle. Without needing to ask, Obi-Wan slowly went in to kiss him. Anakin surrendered to him, letting the undeniable magic of Obi-Wan’s touch save him, keep him from sinking into the ground. He kissed back, savoring every second of being alive and in the arms of the one he would give it all up for. 

Anakin, suddenly, became all too aware of a piercing, growing pain growing from Obi-Wan’s heart, rubbing dark ink all over his body.

“I couldn’t-“ Anakin started, pulling away from the young professor and putting warm hands through his hair, “I couldn’t save him. He did it for us, it’s why I was able to survive while the Horcrux was destroyed.”

_Qui-Gon._

A small tear rolled down Obi-Wan’s face while he looked at Anakin. He turned his head softly to the side and stared at the seventh year, so lovingly.

“He always wanted to become one with magic, you know,” Obi-Wan started. Anakin realized the level of his gratefulness for Qui-Gon Jinn with every moment that passed. Before he’d come back to Hogwarts as a professor, Qui-Gon had softened Obi-Wan’s heart. Taken care of Obi-Wan, taught him. It wasn’t unlike how Anakin had fallen in love with him so many years ago.

“And he saved you,” Obi-Wan said, his smile growing from edge to edge, “I thought you died,” Obi-Wan whispered, careful to keep tears from falling down his face as he held Anakin’s tall, shivering body in his arms for what felt like the very first time.

“I thought the same,” Anakin replied, his eyes glossy and happy as he went in for a long, wet kiss. Warm rain seemed to only touch them exactly where it felt good, where it felt perfect. “I wish I could’ve saved him, Obi-Wan.”

The once young professor, who now seemed far more like an older wizard, placed a soft kiss on Anakin’s temple and moved his hand to his chest. Anakin’s skin was raw with magic, his breath full and wet with the rain. Anakin had never felt precious in his life, save under the touch of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"My darling," Obi-Wan started, brushing a stray tear or raindrop off of Anakin's cheek, "the ones who love us never really leave us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFFY EPILOGUE INCOMING!!!! 
> 
> I’ll include a long love note to the people who have read this fic in the next chapter, the last one. But for now, I’ll say thank you. Having you keep up with my story gave me something to look forward to everyday, and I can never thank you enough. Nobody deserves a happy ending more than our boys.
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked it <3 (references listed in the beginning note)
> 
> stanakin96.tumblr.com


	23. Daylight & Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of being together, Anakin and Obi-Wan take their youngest child to Kings Cross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is over :,)
> 
> References to:  
> Daylight - Taylor Swift  
> Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

_Many, many years later._

_-_

Anakin Skywalker, older now and far more handsome, thought that if his husband were a color it would surely be golden.

Obi-Wan rolled over to his side in the bed they shared. Light peaked in through large windows in their bedroom and waved over his hair, making him look like he’d been dipped in sunlight. He was shirtless, sleepy. Tiny lines had begun to grow around the corners of his eyes and a day did not pass where Anakin couldn’t recognize a new smile line. He picked up his fingers and rolled a thumb over them at the corners of his mouth. Obi-Wan smiled and wrapped his hand around Anakin’s wrist.

“They’re reminders,” Obi-Wan started, yawning, “of a life lived in happiness and daylight.”

 _Daylight_.

It was his color, everything about him. He was beauty and hope and _daylight_ , his goodness made Anakin feel like he’d been privy to a new kind of innocence, of love. Maybe, after all this time around Obi-Wan, he had become golden too. He rolled his hand over the black band now situated on Obi-Wan’s ring finger and remembered the day they decided to get married.

The salty sea air. The whimsy and the romance of it all.

-

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place how he felt, standing out in the sand with Anakin. He thought back to his time as an Auror and knew that if he hadn’t quit, hadn’t given it all up, he wouldn’t be here. Exactly where he needed to be. With him.

The wind-swept, brooding, and gentle love of his life. A now careful, pain-bitten man. The young professor looked out at the ocean, dark with seaweed, glittering in the gloss of a sunny day.

“I hate sand, you know,” Anakin said, lightly kicking his dark boots into the packed earth beneath him.

“But not so much with you,” he looked at Obi-Wan, hair drifting in front of his face from the salty wind. Obi-Wan took a deep breath as he turned to face the now graduated nineteen-year-old. Nobody was there but them, and save a few seagulls. Obi-Wan couldn’t avoid it much longer, the reason why he’d brought Anakin to Coruscant’s shore. 

He slipped his hand quickly in his pocket, his fingers tapping down on the small box. This was always the place where it was meant to happen.

Obi-Wan looked back at the ocean as the pair stepped closer, bound in mutual silence, and careful to see who spoke first.

“It reminds me of you, the ocean.” Said Obi-Wan, the tips of his boots almost meeting the place on the shore where water kissed the sand.

“Why is that?” Anakin asked, his divine attention now focused on the young professor.

“Unpredictable, gorgeous,” Anakin shifted, his discomfort obvious, “powerful.”

“You know I’m not sad about losing, right? Poe always deserved it.” Anakin said, wicked smile making Obi-Wan somehow more nervous than he’d previously been, “I have everything I’ve ever wanted, you don’t need to worry anymore.”

“Christ Anakin will you just-” Obi-Wan threw his hands in the air, disgruntled as ever. 

He couldn’t wait any longer, so he hurriedly moved in front of Anakin. Cold water splashed on his shoes and pants as he began to kneel. 

“Obi-Wan-” Anakin blurted; eyes now wide like moons.

“No darling, it’s my turn,” the reckless, foamy water brushed against Obi-Wan, making him laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, “I’m on one knee for you.”

The young professor thought back to his time with the brilliant, ever-changing Slytherin. Cutting his hair in the light of the Ravenclaw fireplace. The first time they’d tried fire-whisky together, how close their bodies were, the warmth of his tipsy breath. Secret sleepovers, brushes of warm fingers. A childhood and golden age that belonged to Anakin Skywalker and Anakin Skywalker _only_.

“There has never been a moment of my life where I have not loved you more than a person could possibly love another person,” Obi-Wan started, “I’ve loved you since I was a child, and before then if it could be possible.”

Anakin, now realizing what was happening, smiled to himself.

“It has been the privilege of my life to watch you grow,” Obi-Wan started.

_How brave you are, how strong you’ve become._

“I only ask that you allow me to accompany you for the rest of it all-“

_Sleepy mornings. Midnight fights. Everything that exists here and in between._

Anakin, without warning, plopped both of his knees down on the shore in front of Obi-Wan and cupped his ears with his hands. He’d never wanted to touch Obi-Wan so much in his entire life.

“I thought you hated sand,” Obi-Wan said, voice caught in happy tears. Anakin leaned over and kissed him, one hand on the back of his warm neck and the other on the small box, ring hidden inside. He’d dreamed of this too many times to count. 

He thought back to meeting Obi-Wan, how tall he seemed; how special he’d made him feel. _From the very beginning._

“I’ve never been so happy.”

-

“We’re lucky you know, most parents have to drop their children off at Kings cross and never see them again,” Obi-Wan said, smiling. He’d been a professor at Hogwarts for upwards of fifteen years, now. Though, had decided he was more suited for teaching Transfigurations.

“But for us, we get to see him later tonight,” Obi-Wan sighed, the heaviness of his chest rolling underneath his button-up shirt. 

Anakin nodded, careful not to let his emotions show too drastically. After all, his son, Qui-Gon, was their youngest. He was the last of three to go to Hogwarts, and he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness watching him with his brand-new books and cloak. 

Luke and Leia, the twins, had started at Hogwarts a few years ago. Leia had grown taller than all of them, now. Her dark hair, braided, fell down her back and reminded him of Padmé. How much she looked like her. 

“Why do you look at me like that?” She asked Anakin, pretty smile pulling the air straight from his lungs. Anakin bent down on his knees to meet her height and pushed a strand of hair behind her small ear.

“You’re just getting so beautiful, is all,” he said, deciding that less was more. Leia smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek before heading towards the entrance to nine and three quarters with Luke. Anakin felt a warm hand on his back as Obi-Wan bent down with him, Qui-Gon stepping in front of them, his eyes nervous.

“What if I don’t fit in?” He asked, looking down at his shoes.

Anakin smiled, and wrapped his fingers around his small arm, hoping he wouldn’t be too cold on the train.

“Qui-Gon Kenobi,” he started, “you were named after someone different, smarter, and bolder than the rest of us. He struggled often to fit in, but was probably the bravest man I ever knew.”

A day didn’t pass where Anakin did not remember Qui-Gon’s sacrifice. Every time he kissed Obi-Wan, every time he heard Leia’s laugh, he knew it was because of what he’d done for them. That fateful day on the shore. Qui-Gon smiled, he looked like Obi-Wan.

“And we’ll be right here, darling, always,” Obi-Wan said, placing his hand on Qui-Gon’s other arm. Anakin always wanted to be the only one Obi-Wan called _darling_ , but since their children, he imagined that the title had never been so fitting. 

Qui-Gon smiled and crashed into Anakin and Obi-Wan’s arms for one last hug. He’d always been so affectionate, as a baby he couldn’t go longer than a few minutes without being in Anakin’s arms before he began crying. He smiled brightly as he pulled away, before joining Luke and Leia. Obi-Wan and Anakin watched, in silence, as he vanished towards Kings Cross.

Obi-Wan placed a warm hand on Anakin’s sleeve and took his hand into his. Anakin reveled in the warmth of his fingers, the calluses on the tips. Fingers he’d adored, hands that had held him every night for so many years.

“They’ll be back, you know, ” Obi-Wan said, looking up at the taller wizard, his long hair pulled back. Anakin leaned over and kissed him now that the kids were out of sight.

“I love you,” Anakin whispered, uncaring about all the other parents around them. Obi-Wan smiled, so brightly, “ _I love you too_.”

A warmness and a daylight waved over his body like a cloak. Reminding him of how it felt to be eighteen and kissing Obi-Wan for the first time. His husband. His love, his life. It had all begun with him, and it was how he wanted it to end. Loving him in moderation had never been his strong suit, yet, he could not imagine ever feeling happier than he did that moment. Like every move he’d made had led him to this.

_And now I see daylight, I only see daylight._

The touch of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The laugh of his children. A warmth and happiness he never thought he deserved, and yet, he held it in the palm of his hands.

All was golden, all was well.

-

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic brought me purpose, love, and so much happiness. You guys made me feel like a writer again, these boys made me feel like a person again. Thank you especially to the people who have been here from the beginning, you have my heart.
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed :)
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> stanakin96.tumblr.com


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